Carpet patterns
and the swirlings of grain
in wooden floors were maps
to me of exotic worlds,
portal holes for a child
to enter and explore
places edged on the
furthest reaches
of the fabulous.
Even today, as an old man,
I saw a landscape
in miniature when morning sunlight
came through the window
and crept across
the room, illuminating a map
in the knots and welts of grain
rolled out on the pinewood floor.
I found myself off on tour
swept into the detail
along its ravines
and imagined trails,
into its wild inland,
the unfenced territories whose
vast subterranean caves
well far below what
can be seen, the dank
dormitories of dream.
And then,
above the underworld,
dry plains paused
by rocky outcrops
of doubt, the long silences
that stretch for miles
and curl up in corners
when evening falls.
The star pitted dark hung
with mystery, morse
for the mystic,
until a sober perspective
shrank the sublime
back into a smaller space
to fit ordinary sight
and became
the comforting familiarity
of a well trodden
wooden floor, aged, uneven,
basking in the morning's
honeyed light.
Written: February 13, 2023
____________________________________________
An anathema for,
pilose nettle burns,
an art form of unstable feathers,
tropes across the ivory cuticles.
Melted mascarpone in a figurine,
pearlescent obsidian,
hooping sapped spirit,
sight of the blue sky.
within her boneless flesh,
the artist grumbles severely,
in a strained, velvety voice,
jumping into the air.
Prima picture goes away,
with feeble equine acclaim,
the nest of the forlorn swan,
embracing an ethereal dawn.
Whimsical soprano,
barely etched in matte black,
diploid remains,
a flawless fleck of fascinating fright.
Rakish Requiem for an,
unrequited magnum opus,
rushing on pinewood stains,
on the cusp of collapse.
As she droops on the ladder,
the impresario draws the
opera curtains closer,
while soothing music,
numbs her toes.
When Requiem strolls,
across the stage to the tune of
Mozart pianissimo,
he manages to pull off,
fulfills a task with accuracy.
2nd place contest winner
HOLIDAY SEASON
Grand goes Christmas celebration:
Creation cum recreation.
Christmas tree on decoration.
Merriment ! Just not to mention.
Bethlehem star shines, that’s the cause.
Reindeer pulls sledge for Santa Claus.
Jingle bells ring rhythmic with pause.
Santa giving gifts ! Great applause.
All work to bake cake at random.
Charm of party to miss seldom.
Gorgeous days ! No place of boredom.
Chilled breeze and snow fall ! Maximum.
Enjoy skating ! Fantastic fun.
Silvery snow shines under Sun.b
Kids throw snow balls to play and run.
After jogging, Jack Frost ate bun.
Holiday season in festive mood.
Visit to Grandma through pinewood,
On red dress goes Red Riding Hood
to taste delicious sumptuous food.
Everything perfect, something amiss
memories I hold in my heart’s abyss
unsaid, unheard, unfinished
Treasured always, only mine to be cherished.
Laying awake on the bed so warm
Waking up to the azure of the dawn
Scent of pinewood that lingered in the air
Feel of carpet on my feet numb and bare.
Melody of the hymns faraway sung
Aroma of delicacies in the cottage that hung
Nestled in a meadow somewhere uphill,
Sitting cozily in the misty morning chill.
Rowing together to the places unknown
Beads of sweat ,on my forehead shone
In lap of the mountain lay a lake so vast
Wishing that time stops and moments could last.
Faces unknown, yours etched on my mind
Travelled miles, so you i could find.
A rosy picture painted in my head
Found myself in the tryst instead.
Two minds who fell apart as older they grew
Little did i know it was my last time with you.
You were my something old, something new.
something borrowed and something blue.
drifting pollen swathes
golden contours round wood’s edge
fox cubs investigate
Mother dear
Oh! The beautiful mother,
The mother nature of all.
Lovely children she bore,
Plants, animals and more.
So what exactly is nature,
The one we all adore.
Nature is the long pinewood tree,
And the busy buzzing bee.
Nature is the sown seed,
And the beautiful mountains indeed.
Nature is the lion who roars with all his might,
And the kangaroo is always ready for a fight.
Nature is the beautiful sky,
And the lush green grass to eye.
Nature is everywhere,
But beauty is in the beholder’s eyes beware.
Be sure of the man,
his greed just grows.
Mother dear is that a tear you show!
SUNBATH
Bathed in Sun rays at delightful dawn gazing at close by pinewood
I would like to lie supine not on smooth lawn
but on feral grasses on non-mowed meadow,
where light and shadow play hide and seek game.
12/ 01/ 20
Liberum Divisa 3 Contest by Gregory Barden.
Original Poem Liberum Divisa
In Fairfax, Alabama, all the trees have empty nests
Autumn leaves are falling with the rain
Tenderly you pick one up and put it in your book
Sunday morning take it out again
Cottonwoods are packing snow but all the mills are dry
Plant a pinewood tree for Christmas cheer
Cut in down and burn it when your holiday is done
Only vinyl trees are good all year
Autumn is more peaceful than the bustle of the spring
All the leaves are settled for the day
Rainbows of the spring are now the shadows of the fall
Wintertime is never far away.
September 9, 2020
Pinewood school park Is where I used to run and have fun in.
Been stomping that concrete since a young in.
Mom high off an eight ball, Im in my feelings bug gin
Under the bridge by the creek is where you used to find my graffiti art in.
Moved to Maryland from Florida just to be faced with the same situation.
Thinking that Ma would have stayed still she was on seven years of Parole And a few months probation.
Ma couldn’t maintain her promise on staying clean.
That was a waste of my childhood dream.
Learned young that I was on my own to build my own family, Create my own team.
So, If I am willing to devote my all.
I secure my security when I say, “I got you til I fall”.
where
does
poetry
dwell
in
a
lilliputian
red log cabin
in
the
pinewood forest
It was in this land of animated nature
Under a moonlit cloak of stars
I was drawn to the glow of a Nymph
She glows as she pirouettes on top a meadow's lake
The zealous winds speak of you
Spiritess of amorous freedom
Can you give me the embrace of the life-giving out flow of spring
Show me the beauty of Aegle
Enchant me with the rich ether of Flora and Fauna
Lure me into your arms and bless me
With Warmth unto me till thy eternal death
She speaks to the dawn
Her locutions sound like serenity against my ears
The silence under the Cyan skys
Bethroned by the emerald like pinewood
I've witnessed her beauty
Dressed in the scent of oak and autumn leaves
Swaying in a gown of wilderness
Shinning bright on morning fire-welkin
Winsome flows and the twilight will pass
Caressing the silky glamour
From lugging heavy boxes in a distribution place,
To taking pinewood coffins to a so called place of grace.
From melting from the heat from six till half past three,
To eating currant buns and drinking nice hot cups of tea.
From hassle from the bosses; there are far too many of them,
To driving around in solitude, with no one to shout your name.
From stitching machines and printing machines on the shop floor,
To making personal enquiries at some brand new prospects door.
From being driven crazy by the boredom of the job,
To have the joy of being able to earn a few more bob.
From the pittance of a wage that was forever small,
To a salary that makes you feel almost ten feet tall.
From the humblest of positions, in a factory set-up,
To driving bones and bodies to the hospital make-up.
From this most unusual tale, I'm sure you've got the notion,
That if you leave the factory, it's sure to be PROMOTION.
Even a funeral assistant gets twice as much or more,
Than all of these workers on this factory shop floor.
So Neil we wish you all the best in your new position,
There won’t be any hassle because it's just DEAD opposition.
Robert Cartwright-Davidson
DEATH IN D FLAT
The song begins with a high note and ends on a low
And denotes the notes urged and surged in between
In the center of the song the brass begins to blow
But then a piccolo portends the end of pert and pristine
At first the fiddles finery finesses a flute
While a violin steals a viola's heart
Suddenly a dulcimer and a drum declare a dispute
When, of course, a pinewood piano pulls them apart
The maestro keeps time measured quite well
With a baton beckoning beauty from a band renown
The crescendo cradles a symphony to swell
But the vexing vocalist's voice dons a deceptive gown
Then choreographed is the chorus, the chorals and bells
With a timpani to teach a trombone what it never before tried
Oh, from the choir comes the groans of ten thousand hells
And the misery music made when our romance and the rhythm died
© 2012 © copyright PHREEPOETREE..~free cee!~
DEATH IN D FLAT
The song begins with a high note and ends on a low
And denotes the notes urged and surged in between
In the center of the song the brass begins to blow
But then a piccolo portends the end of pert and pristine
At first the fiddles finery finesses a flute
While a violin steals a viola’s heart
Suddenly a dulcimer and a drum declare a dispute
When, of course, a pinewood piano pulls them apart
The maestro keeps time measured quite well
With a baton beckoning beauty from a band renown
The crescendo cradles a symphony’s swell
But the vexing vocalist’s voice dons a deceptive gown
Then choreographed is the chorus, the chorals and bells
With a timpani to teach a trombone what it never before tried
Oh, from the choir comes the groans of ten thousand hells
And the misery music made when our romance and the rhythm died
© 2012…..PHREEPOETREE ~free cee!~
The stars shone down upon the ground,
While I sat strumming my guitar,
And time stood still and gathered round.
O’er the mountaintop glazed the moon,
While I sat strumming my guitar,
And saw the rocks that gods had hewn.
The bacon sizzled in the pan,
While I sat strumming my guitar,
As trees whispered of nature’s plan.
The pinewood burned in the campfire,
While I sat strumming my guitar,
My senses climbing ever higher.
So when I need to rest my mind,
While I’m sat strumming my guitar,
It is mountains I come to find.
Form: Enclosed Couplet
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