sage wisps
of candent swirls
dance upon a once dark scroll-
an austere wall thought uninspired
pirouettes with wonder
Nette Onclaud
LIGHT A PENSEE Poetry Contest
27 Jul 2026
The air grows thick with want, a sweet and heavy shroud,
As primal needs escape the clamor of the crowd.
I feel a tremor deep within my bone and skin,
A wicked hunger where all reason wears too thin.
My thoughts, a tangled mess of what could be,
What’s done.
A fevered race to reach the rising of the sun,
Your lips, a whispered lure that pulls me from my place,
To lose myself within the rapture of your grace.
A potent madness takes its hold, and reason fades,
And all that matters is the game our bodies play.
The world recedes, a blur of motion, lost and past,
Until this fire is but an ash that can't be cast.
(19th century Tibetan Wangden rug)
Primal Properties
I look around at all the art I have collected
An assortment of inherited, home made and bought,
Ranging from African to Asian to Persian
With a smattering of European and American
In paintings and ceramics, carvings and weavings,
And the quality of primitive earthy energy
Is what strikes me most.
There is a refinement of technique in many
But it’s the primal essence
This technique is serviced to express,
The marriage of natural materials
And natural sensibilities
Through the transpersonal lens
Of a supernatural force
That defines it,
The definition being one of feeling/perception
More than verbalized thinking.
What is this irrepressible force
Our bodyminds create with these primal properties?
Life.
(11/18/24)
Non-performing AI and EV’s now center stage
customers rightly outraged
Unleash your primal scream
Transgender men destroying women’s sports
dominating arenas and courts
Unleash your primal scream
Immigration at the border’s a nightmare
Let ‘em all in, give ‘em welfare
Unleash your primal scream
If we all scream loud enough
the D.C. elites will have to get tough
When understanding dies
—blood is all we have
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
An Autumn wind blew an acorn
from the paws of a squirrel
right into the pond
without so much as a twirl
Then the wind knocked down a sapling
that had recently sprouted
cackling madly as a witch
at the foliage it routed…
Heralding a long bitter winter
Madame Wind howled as fierce
as a wolf ripped to shreds by a bear
~ primal instincts ravaging its lair
O Little Earth, You Present Fruits Of Primal Seed
O little earth, wonder rests in thy glorious all
You allow mankind but what is he truly worth
Is he no more than an insect, so very small
Gazing at bright Heavens confused by mighty earth
To we, you giveth honey from thy heaving breasts
And the purest sweetness of your clearwater to drink
Bounty of night's black darkness for to sleep and rest
And wonders of our human minds for us to think.
O little earth, you present fruits of primal seed
Have you jewels hid, waiting for our greedy hands
Do you hold even more to harvest for our needs
And in reality, blessings even more in your lands!
O little earth dare we from you take all and even more.
With ravenous greed, we desire an even bigger score!
Robert J. Lindley, Sonnet
Feb 20th , 1973
"" You our planet allowing us to bear and breed.""
It's the sun's prerogative
whether to shine.
It's the moon's volition,
to make our dreams sublime.
It's the stars discretion,
whether we align.
But to love you
is a choice all mine.
Primal and divine!
A feral battle between two starving men
That rages for ages with no knowable end.
Deep in the pit, exchange blow for blow
No escape, never free, forever held down below.
Brown bloodied rags hang off their skin
A visceral clash deep, deep therein.
Deep beetled brow looks rabidly down
Into hopeful pure eyes, neither making a sound
The silent exchange of resolve and of blood.
None else exists but man's will and the mud.
Neither will die no matter the force.
The fate of the men rotate in due course.
There is nothing else after, and was nothing before.
One wins a battle but neither wins the war.
The upper hand depends on the day.
A layer of flesh is with what all men pay.
One man breathes red and has ruby’s for eyes.
The other fights tempered with measured bled tries.
Pure savage ferocity against patience and poise
With the thrashing and crashing, only grit makes a noise.
From just the right angle they both look the same.
But the battle yet rages, they strangle for his name.
My scream nobody listens,
in the middle of this huge city,
I won't depress on unhappiness
wrecked, drink poison or hemlock...
said to be the antidote to this agony
I found the source of poetry in the fierce cry...!
The Sea is my lover
the shoreline our bedroom
slowly he takes me to
the Ends of Forever.
Ignoring the jagged rocks he comes calling
cutting himself on the
stones and the shingles.
Arriving breathless, he lifts me
higher
until I crash on the vague
horizon.
And I am left
clinging
to his nebulous shadow
while my salt tears descend
and fill his great
Body.
They awaken from hibernation
It was not a quiet slumber
They are hungry and need to feed
On the air, a scent, foreign yet familiar
Nose tracking, they follow
From a distance they spot each other
Teeth showing, growling deep, they approach
With a PRIMAL howl they pounce, scratching and clawing, trying to get any advantage
Finally he pins her down, puts his teeth around her neck and takes her
Feeding time has begun and they won't stop till they are full
SILHOUETTE (10/23) — PRIMAL
Pain lingers
Cheer evaporates;
Grim flavours clutter
~~~~~
Here I feel
How stillness heals
Heart, mind and will
For soul sparks fest
In mystic quest
Here I catch
The glimpse that match
Change in each batch
Thus journey quest
Now floods new zest
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
08 January 2021
Singapore
I get up and stumble to the coffee pot.
The first thing I say to myself is my age,
as if the disbelief can be suspended being half awake;
the full bladder, the cold feet, the gritty cheeks-
O don’t even consider the mirror,
I might stumble in and drown.
When did this begin,
this ritual of waking to an update?
Yes, I’m still seventy-one
and still not used to my skin.
Yes, I’m still hungry to feel,
because what is life if you don’t feel?
And I feel like ripping the wallpaper off,
like jumping in the trees,
like tasting the juices of fruits.
But after ritual mathematics
my mind goes to its normal home.
I start sniffing around like a dog.
I need an ******.
Baby takes first breath
Let’s out an almighty cry,
Mum exclaims, Dad smiles
By
David Kavanagh
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