gusty torrid waves
no songbird waves in the wind
no waves from sapped leaves
specious waves of mirages
folks in waves running to pools
pigment change in leaves
ester smell of full blown fruits
heading toward fall
Place: 3rd
midway to winter
morning fog shrouds leafless trees
all color is gone
but the robin still chatters
with the last sad chickadee
November descends delicately,
crisp, crimson-gold
landing languidly midway between
'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day'
and 'Now is the winter of our discontent' -
dead center between its nurturing tree
and the leaf pile bound for burning
Casually clad in T-shirt and shorts
on my makeshift cardboard sled
middle age's gravity conveys me irreversibly
down summer's green, grassy slope
towards the snow-shrouded vale -
I find myself halfway between
where I did not want to leave
and where I do not wish to visit
Midway between the eulogy
and the forlorn trumpet playing 'Taps'
it dawns on me that life is not entirely about the
sunshine on our backs nor the coming snowbank
but about searching for the sunrise
on the far side of
the next hill
1 November 2022
Clamor of the midway delights our ears
Calliopes from the old merry-go-round,
Shouts of the barkers, games one hears
Clamor of the midway delights our ears,
Squeals of children, roller coaster fears
Combine to make up that special sound,
Calliopes from the old merry-go-round
Clamor of the midway delights our ears.
Written August 22, 2022
Midway up and down
I have met this gentleman crying
Sobbing with grief abound
Nerves popping like rivers
He sat on the bench next to me
Holding his swollen head
Grace to Grass I have fallen, said he!
The bench where now I sat
A happy bubbling puppy
Celebrating how high I came
To sit on this bench, where he too sits
Looking for letters for words
To thank God, the Giver of Excess!
This midway bench is high and low
This midway bench is pain and gain
The bench is mine today
Tomorrow somebody else
Coming down or up
Shall Cheer or fear
How far they are or were
Now or before the bench!
Lost in the ocean
amidst an endless sea,
Hanging around my neck
is a locket and key,
Picture dwells inside
no big mystery,
Portrait of you,
but it belongs to me,
Can I have a little longer
choking back the tears,
Wishing I could hold you
need to have so near,
Night time is falling
moonlight starts to glow,
I open up the locket,
never to be closed,
My life raft is sinking
water pours within,
Desperate situation
trying to save my skin,
All I really care about
not seeing you again,
Beautiful picture I gaze upon
brings solace to my pain,
O darling if you hear me
love always overcomes,
What a way to go under
your face is right in front,
O god I’m so sorry
have to take this plunge,
My only regret is leaving
you, not how I succumb,
My tears are sweetened
beneath salty waves,
Heart is pounding crazy
first kiss we made,
Your with me as I perish
my soul is not afraid,
Death in war’s nothing
for you my life I freely gave.
By
David Kavanagh
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap,
Brown bland blisters of trampled grey soil in bay,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
Withered warm whispers in wet pastures seep,
Midway merging November winds to Winter neigh,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap.
Thousand tattered treasures revive slumber deep,
Calm crispy corridor covers secrets on the way,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep
Silver sumptuous snow solaces them who weep,
Intense iridescent incarnations of life each day,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap.
Wonderful white wisps wake desires, oh they leap,
Emerged effervescent existence born to fly away,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
Magnificent miraculous moments I joyously keep,
Frosty ferocious fears, fervent furling hopes sleigh,
Lustrous laureled leaves in autumn silently reap,
Glorious golden glee blankets my dreams in sleep.
June 21, 2020
Month of the year I like most Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mohan Chutani
~Premiere Contest Winner: 5th Place
To beautiful glorious Hawaiian Midway Island I am bound.
Terrific hope in my heart, and an old 70’s boom-box for sound.
You cannot stop me. Headed for the ocean, I want to feel alive!
Then I will ask my grandma. She does not care that I am only five!
I stretch lazily in the morning sun-
awakening to pure mountain air
mingled with herbs and flowers.
the mist gives a magical hue
to fresh greens and pinks
of the garden beyond the gate.
the stream rushes by with resonance,
chasing the mountainside down to the Mattole
then the Pacific pounding the cliffs below.
my senses are delighted
by the magnificent beauty,
raw, unmarred, unsurpassed....
Pacific Island
upon the living room wall
silent faces cry.
© Harry J Horsman 2010
To Gooney Birds
Shifting palm trees in sandy beach sunshine
Guard an immortal violet-blue lagoon
Gooney birds beg and dance all in a line
When they land it’s like watching a cartoon
As the ship is being refueled at pier
Steaks and beer on the beach with these strange birds
An island oasis it would appear
What I observed was truly beyond words
Sailors in various degrees of dress
Being chased and attacked by vicious foul
While steaks burned with cold beer we couldn’t care less
By sunset my shipmates began to howl
A bizarre lay over as you have read
We left at sunrise all with aching head
halfway to heaven
on the border to hell
here on the surface
condemned to dwell
floating in limbo
perched in oblivion
false gaiety blocking
and scarring my vision
life is x marked by destiny
the path obscured by today
two roads diverge
but i chose neither way
expression is freedom
and choice is divine
both strictly governed
by place and by time
It was June the 4th 1942,
As I was floating in the ocean alone;
The ship I had sailed on, sank to the bottom
And I thought I would never again, see home.
The Japanese fleet had steamed in from the east
With the intentions of capturing Midway.
Though they were stopped by American war ships,
Whose guns, bombs and torpedoes planes saved the day.
All night long, I watched the fireworks of war
And on the second day we turned up the heat.
As big bombers from Hawaii dropped their loads,
On Japanese ships who soon chose to retreat.
An imperial pilot came floating close by,
Who had been chewed on by the beasts of the sea.
I couldn't help but feel passion for this is man
Who had answered his call just like me.
When it was over, I was plucked from the deep,
By men in a lifeboat just after the dawn.
For two days I had watched the battle for, Midway;
Now it's quiet and the enemy has gone.
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