Blues that seem destined for the day
swirl into maroons of brown and marooned greys
Moons haloed face catches itself on the edges
of blackened cloud turning gossamer in its hints
Pinpricks of stars sway in diminishing concerns
Whispers of breeze tipped with a promise of cold yet to come
The tendrils of skeletal trees reaching skyward
trying to pull the night closer
Just a bit
October's moving in
I can feel it on my skin.
The wind blows lightly every leaf
but brings in the cooling sheaths
pushing back
the leftovers summer beats lack;
In the quiet rush
the trees whisper, hush
calling out to all of us,
change is in the breeze;
the warm that remains
is just a hint of September games
leaning into fall residue
autumn calling in the faded hues;
colors ranging from the lime lemon blends
into the shadings of olive-brown russets
so many shadow feature ramblings
rest in the crimson carmine maroons;
the sun rises late, ambers crawling in
setting early to the harvest orange crimson
and the reawakening of the blood moon
with autumn calling a lurid dying of October from June;
October's moving in
making for winter taunts and teasing
in the constant changing of the season.
That's a sin for God and all creation.
A stone-like heart best describes you.
Blood sei, Nubia tears, and a brief elision
Extremely wide and bone-white in hue.
The grin you used to wear long ago
Has vanished into a sea of bitter tears.
The whale you sought in the bay sank low.
bears wisdom and bravery without fear.
Your whole crew is incredibly brave.
With some wild spears in a back-alley saloon,
The mania grew into a full-fledged tidal wave.
They dragged the ship and are now maroons.
Don't travel faraway on one prosthetic foot.
Turn around the vessel; we still hope yet.
A despair pall lingered over the deck soot.
For prancing sake, we've never met.
If you hinder ignoring us, we will all die shortly.
Doom's mind and soul are free of sea spirit.
I hope that you'll be standing by to greet me.
Power derived from the same source to inherit.
Written: June 3rd 2023
Gardenias and roses, lilac and fragrant jasmine shruB,
Are my backyard passion, both colorful and so artfuL!
Rare shades of beauty abound, like black, and indigO.
Dahlias from peach to velvet wine, give delight alsO.
Every bold color is represented, at the gardener's whiM,
Never dull, with maroons, pinks and golds, so like sunsetS!
Written May 29,2020
Double Double Words to Bubble Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joseph May
A rainbow bark?
Here in the dark?
Oh, my yes,
You should see her dress!
Maroons and green,
Outed by the queen,
Orange and reds,
Shown as she sheds.
Rainbow Eucalyptus,
Seeing is truly worth a bit of fuss.
Painted by the master,
Keep up, you can walk faster.
A rainbow bark!
Colorful at dark.
Oh, goodness yes!
You should see her dress!
Seasons of Sanity
Affect my a$$.
It is ever thus.
Each season percolates
Distinct chemical essences from the
Cauldron of consciousness
Sloshing edge to edge in my brain pan.
Normalcy.
No one knows what that elusive
Formula could be.
Perceptions are refracted
A thousand times over
Within the smoke filled
Fun house of our existence.
Synthesis.
Earth’s seasons typify
But do not define
The kaleidoscope colors;
Moods and perceptions
Transform, intensify-
Lavenders to lightning blue,
Browns to lightening limes,
Maroons to neon ruby reds.
Thrashed strings of a guitar,
Spectrums of ambivalent
Harmonies theme my days.
Seasons of Sanity.
Anyone claiming to know
The weather of sanity’s seasons
Is to be avoided.
There's no sweetness like you, let me taste every kiss.
Written on 12/13/2015
Song: Sugar by Maroons 5
I used to love Elvis's songs and watched all of his fine concerts;
then the long-haired Beatles came from England
and he was almost swept away in his own land!
Suddenly, new artists names appeared on the Billboard Charts,
I couldn't stick to a specific artist:
I guess they all sang to the heart!
Because of my age, people think I am a square,
I listen to Maroons 5, Lady Gaga and Katy Perry;
I can name more vocalists whom I enjoy on my Galaxy phone,
but what really matters is Pop Rock influence on me lately.
Does it mean that Pavarotti is out of the picture?
No, a great performance is still a delight to hear...
even Bocelli sings pop with a conservative style:
I embrace them all, did I forget fashionable Cher?
Loveless
Am not a painter
But the picture is broken
With a maze background
Its shape, loop
In the pent house
This picture stands
The man inside melancholic
Though the setup fervent
Scenarios fatalistic
To the novice fallacious
And spell binds many
Making the modest definition
The zenith of Hades
Color-flies the entire texture
That maroons the spear contrast
Benching a murky frame
Lights on, lights out
The close fastidious
And remains obnoxious
Let my voice represent those seeking emotional, physical and or mental emancipation!
Let my voice be that of the woman whose cries go unheard in the humdrum activities of this life!
Let my voice be the microphone that bellows the wails of the suppress, underprivileged and less fortunate!
Let my voice be that of the Freedom fighters: Nanny of the maroons, Rosa Parks and Susie King Taylor!
Let my voice be that of the unheard who speeches fall on deaf ears...
Let my voice be that of the unsung song that is shelved because it does not fit the profile of success- greed, sexual immortality, jealousy,
scandal!
Let my voice be the voice that seeks peace.
Let my voice be the voice that tells the stories of millions who were denied an opportunity.
Let my voice be the voice that speaks or articulates godly qualities.
Let my voice be the voice of those who have been muted by the society- The Unheard Voice!
Trumpet the ethos of these wading warriors with the hollowed bones
of their panygeric prophets,resonating triumphant tones,
to forever honor,protect,& perpetuate the valor,virtue,& victory of this Holy Order,
the irridescent echo seeps from their Father's tombs,
for what extent shall I blaze myself and minions in the arrows path,
so to coddle an intangible hope made of a prayer's dope,
or in a mind where a prevailing vision roams,
nay, to avert that macbre nightmare of having my People's progeny becoming the pigmy
of a teething tyrant who condones the perversion of civilization's tomes,
a coalesced consciousness consummated by the last bastion
with a vigorous vigil on this Christmas Eve,
solemn and sacramental the emotion is which this of our hearts
the Almighty exhumes,
A dispatched soldier ploying as scout,remote, waiting ignorantly to be smote,
a far but not forgotten armored satellite being selfless,
his vanity enemy's threat consumes,
an unbridled but composed offensive of a triplicate terror delivered
by an indefatigable knight ,
an ultimatum presented simply but also strictly,
one at least his assault maroons,
J.A.B. - Part Four -
Daybreak slipping through these champagne curtains
Red silk; twined aneath crimsons sheets; awakening....
This afterglows mornings dew; her wet moist kisses
Soft sunrise and whom can deny such love; about her
Kittens den; purrr; feed me this need of your heavenly
Breed; cranberry breast amid sweet sublime; suckling
Her thirsting poetics child; a virgins verse as capturing
Venus aside strokes swirling atop sanguines canvas....
Splashed in maroons colours of a daybreak; pink silk
Aneath sheets slipping through tomorrows champagne
Curtains parting their purrring; brushing this her beauty
Within a moist dews afterglow; intoxicatings sweet, wet
*********************************************
...."Red Rums Kiss * 'Strawberries And Cream'" ~
Fields of freedom fruiting our fantasy
Liberty from the Ironshore sugar crumbling days
Airport displaced and struggling for land
Nature strewn where Taino and Maroons ratified claim
Kin and flesh held one displaced place, ancestral lands
Enticing too the greedy barons claim, but they had none
Rights must be the thrust of the masses, so dream
Struggle, fight, Flankers must unite against the chains of night
life was the grains of hope
that slipped through my fingers,
the chilling breath that scurried
around my afflicted mind.
I heard your whispers
through the telephone wires,
felt your coldness
through a pretentious world.
No sister, nor brother
to confide in,
not that anyone cared,
lonely days, lonely nights
where to drift through the burden
of one’s mind to that visionary
place, there, where one casts aside
reality and takes on an entity,
a power with the ability to right
all that is wrong, a sanctuary
that maroons the real world in
rampant arrogance, and it’s
populous totally ignorant
of what goes on,
in the heart of a lonely soul!
© Harry J Horsman 2000
Songs and minutes, smoke and maroons
Swirl and shake in a majestic monsoon
Words and winds radiate from this relic
But it's heartily broken, hardening into a brick
She's surrounded by specks of sparkling sand
But notices nothing in this loathsome land
She feels frustrated-- thrown for a lonesome loop
In the desert and deserted, all she does is stoop
It's not a secret that she's surrounded
But how she remains alone leaves her astounded
She looks, and listens, and does legwork
But somehow all she sees is dust and dirt
There's not a place of paradise-- one oasis
Except for her lone entity that can grace all graces
Her feelings have descended, discouraged by not a find
How can a sapphire so beautiful be so blind?
March 2010
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