Pinpricks Poems | Examples

Looking Up

Friends are for life,
Burning bright like stars,
Sun like steady, 
guiding through 
storms of doubt 
and decision. 
 
Darkness deep,
Shimmering distances, 
faint pinpricks
that appear 
deep enough 
to need them. 
 
The childhood friend: 
of memory never fades, 
winter after winter 
rising in the 
same place and burning bright like pole star. 
 
New friends 
cluster like the stars,
seven sisters dancing, 
each light distinct,
yet bound by 
invisible threads 
of shared laughter. 
 
Some have 
wandered 
beyond my horizon, 
their glow 
A question mark 
against 
unfamiliar skies. 
 
But on clear nights,
when loneliness 
spreads its black cloth, 
I trace the lines between us
this one who held my hand through grief, 
that one who celebrated my small victories, 
another who simply 
sat in comfortable silence. 
 
Distance is nothing to starlight. 
Love travels at the speed of memory, 
arrives intact 
after years of traveling 
through the dark. 
 
Tonight,
I map the constellation of us: 
each friend a fixed point
 in the turning world, 
their collective brightness 
spelling out my name
across the endless 
sky of belonging.

Deja Vu

Deja Vu. 
Turns around with you. 
Double vision turns to a single fiber. 
Which grapples with you.

Deja Vu. 
We count on this feeling. 
Spin around like a speck of nothing. 
Try to count again. 

Deja Vu. Deja Vu. 
Lasts as long as outer space. 
Brings outer space into our view. 
When we try to pick out the pinpricks.

Deja Vu
Splitting
Splattering
Poofing

Deja Vu. 
And it was just me suddenly. 
And my crystal ball. 
I can try again if I want. 
But I have to wait on it. 

Deja Vu. 
Was just psychosis after all. 
I believe it for once. 
And maybe next time too.

Gideon Stands Guard

The moon, a charcoal smudge, hangs low and dim,
while stars, like pinpricks, pierce the black night.
Clicking crickets creates a raucous hymn,
and katydids whir on new wings to take flight.

A yellow bulb's honeyed glow makes a homey sheen
until a timer flicks a switch turning off the light
and letting darkness rush into the tranquil scene,
making baby goats bleat from fright.

In the corner lays a lumpy carpet of fur
made by mamma goats cuddling nice and tight;
making the entire goat herd an entangled blur
of white rumps and necks entwined in the night.

Except for little Gideon, who stands in the barn door;
a castrated pygmy goat turned into a withered grazer,
stares at the house below without a snort or a snore,
as he chews his cud, thinking about some tormentor.

Why else stand guard?

Closer

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

A Night In The Middle Of A Night

you are allowed to bring two items with you
and then you’ll leave forever
we’ll be back, that’s all they said before they left

night was underway,  things were always underway
nothing seemed to start or end
every time was in the middle
but this night was pretty
when I found myself already there
looking up at a lightshow sky

the outside, my only companion
when movement emerged between the points
of far off pinpricks and patterns
then colour began and shapes shorty after
as the swirls and spirals drew closer
I don’t know exactly when the blackness
changed fully to tessellates of neon-like blocks
but amidst my threatening tremble
one landed too closely
it was all a bit too beautiful and mouth-dropping

even after all this time, a part of me is expecting
them to return as promised
even though I’m awake now 
but so vivid was that night

I often wonder what two items I should choose
just in case

Pondering in Pastures

Pretty pink and purple poppies
 perfume peaceful pastures and
 prance into picturesque poses.
 Proud patterns in pale light 
paint playful pictures
 in dust particles like
 pinpricks of precise punctuation. 
Promises are preached, pondered, prayed for 
and proven in this patient pastime.
 Pushed, pulled, put and pardoned
 by a precious and pure performance
 in her powerful presence...
preserving this preceived poetry.

Jim's Glimpse of the MerWoman

Jim had only glimpsed the gorgeous merwomen once
But he never forgot her gray-eyed stare
She had bored pinpricks through his surprised eyes
Was her hair real or imagined?

Jim recalled coral, starfish and pearls at her crown.
Had she been a mirage, or had she been real?
His boat returned to Dolphin Bay each year for thirty-six years
He hoped to get another glimpse of the beautiful siren

We old-timers knew the story
Jim had told it in every tavern and restaurant down the coast.
Some figured he met with the merwomen upon his death
Unsure, I sincerely hoped that this might have happened for him.

Whispers of Starlight

Whispers of wisdom, ancient lore,
Echoing down through ages before,
Sacred verses, etched in stone,
Guiding stars where we've never flown.

Across the canvas of the night,
A million pinpricks, bathed in light,
Celestial map, a silent guide,
Leading us to where dreams reside.

Un-kissed temples, stories told,
Of gods and heroes, brave and bold,
Mantras are chanted, spirits unfold,
In ancient echoes, mysteries unfold.

Beneath the stars, a tapestry grand,
Whispers of wisdom, hand in hand,
Guide our steps across the land,
In knowledge sought, we understand.

So let us climb, with hearts alight,
Where sacred verses paint the night,
Embracing truth's enduring light,
In wisdom's flame, we find our might.

An absent father

you can enjoy the delicacy of a rose without touching it
enjoy it without embracing it
knowing it is perceived as gentle, kind, forgiving
but it’s thorns are always going to be there
always going to be just as sharp
pinpricks turned to razor blades if you get too close
you can enjoy the rose from a distance, 
but don’t you dare get too close again

The Dark Is Not Evil

The Dark is not, through and through
Evil personified.
Owl's pinpricks of good intent
Shine through, soft moon-eyed.

And for what Day, outfaced, is
Too fiercely intrusive
More any ghoulish horror
Eats away at the nerves
Does it, for what such preserves
A safe refuge give.

Wait For Morning To Burn

Morning fog descends 
Dusky pinpricks on my skin
Veils of hidden hills arise
Shrouds obey sunrise

Redwood still stands tall
Poetry sits on a perch
Feel the morning fog recede
Clouds layered veils deep

Fog's book peels pages 
Sunrise lifts up gray curtains
Opaque airs thicken distance
Lone jay takes off

Poem transpires slate
Inspiration dissipates
Male jay remains in the drab
Smoke apparitions

Distance is illusion
Loneliness a delusion
Like fog fooling perspective
Change heaven’s constant

Tomorrow shrouds come
Ashen mornings will return
Love will find rest in redwoods
Poems are renounced

Stay grounded as trees
Climb above clouds to what's blue
Wait for aspect to restore
Fog, bird, or lover

***
2 Samuel 23:4
'Is as the light of the morning when the sun rises, a morning without clouds, when the tender grass springs out of the earth, through sunshine after rain.’

Beautiful Dreamer

Under stars we sat there talking deep into the night
A canopy of pinpricks twinkling luminous and bright
Splayed out across a pitch black sky, the moonlight beaming down
And lighting up two figures sitting cross-legged on the ground
Your head rest on my shoulder 
One hand caressed my face 
The other locked around my arm
I'd frozen in my place
Unwilling to believe it
This just couldn't be true
That I would actually be somewhere
Sitting next to you
Experiencing a closeness, an orchestra composed
Of caressing and of talking, with hints of vanilla and of rose

Did I Tell You I Went To the Beach

Did I tell you I went to the
Beach last week?
The wind picked up mightily as I
Stepped out onto the hotel verandah
And the tall royal palm trees lining the courtyard
Lifted and bent their majestic fronds
And they whipped and wept in the west wind
With a sound like a thousand haystacks being thrown
Into the air

And, yes, that same week,
Oh,
The very next day
The wind dropped to a soft breeze as I
Stepped out onto the Hotel Verhandah
The royal palms lining the courtyard
Graciously dipped and bowed
Their crowns of pointed fronds
With a sound like a thousand mothers shushing their
Crying babes

The sea sparkled dazzling pinpricks of light
Each and every sparkle sent
My heart and soul back to 2012
I gaze upon another sea, the vast Indian ocean 
Rushing towards the tip of Africa,
Behind me up a steep, shaded street,
In the small, sweet nursed clinic
My mother lay still and breathed less and less every day
Until, with a sound like a thousand whispered goodbyes,
She died

Perceptions

A chameleon adorning mirror scales
See rainbow hue’s 
shimmer and shine, sparkle and glow
tiny glittering pinpricks of light

now dark and grey with lightning strikes 
cutting through the darkness on tears of illumination
Don’t look too close
lest you find what you seek ...

You dig and dive and analyze and search
Deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole
twisting and swirling, the further you go, the closer you come home
The end is the beginning

Look closer now … 
Change your view
Past the glittering light
Past the inky darkness
What you’re seeing 
Is you …

10.07.2021

Azure I

Azure is the sky, dyeing 
A shade darker beyond twilight
From cold embrace of heaven
Star falls, darkness calls.
Embers of sky, dance.
Deep the shifting hues,
A burn of spectrums rays,
Horizon a fire. 
Dyeing in cool mists
Shimmer pinpricks 
Alight in the firmament
Deep past midnight…

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