the earth speaks
in a syntax of wind,
in the slow-moving vowels
of shadow across stone;
its grammar lives
in the way grasses lean,
in how light punctuates
the ridge at dawn,
each pause a lesson,
each shift a clause
in the long, unwritten text
of being alive;
and when we listen,
truly listen~
we feel meaning gather
like seeds in the palm,
a quiet fluency
in the language
we were born knowing
but forgot how to read.
You get familiar
with the fall of the land,
follow a gentle slope of words
down to the shore
where water punctuates
time with waves.
All becomes a poem,
washing up
metaphor upon metaphor,
meaning forming on the wide,
tide swept beach,
whisperings in the chambers
of seashells, white sand
carrying the remains
of the churned passions
of the sea. Love distills
to a warm, soft breeze
nuzzling into a still
drowsy morning.
In the quiet still
in the sable night
dreamy dotted with
punctuates of light
I recall
my youthful days:
no balcony too steep
nor high – those I could
not climb, then~ simply I
would fly
Wanted: old Juliet, with
sympathetic elevator --
Flagrant bird Bernadette feathery flair flamboyant
Towers over average plumage
Parades tassle twist pantomime pow wow warbonnet
Cascade costume illuminating
Cheyenne crowned showgirl, a flurry of torso tumult
Statuesque neck festers fatalism
Stiletto weapon punctuates staid with societal revolt
Rouses a Lady Marmalade rythm
Elusive vermilion mouth majestic Bernadette buxom
Slinks sequined by beside suited
Patrons in shadow of taboo troublesome seduction
Stubble rub struggle translucent
Sashaying aves, aloof eaglet suspended in feminine
Bouyant slow swirl drape tailed koi
Hypnotic bronzed bends transmit treacle pheromone
Concocts a carbonated cider void
26th June Too sexy!
A period here. a question mark there?
A handful of commas,,,tossed in the air
To fall all willy-nilly but he doesn't care.
Then he closes his eyes so he never sees,
And does it again with apostrophe's.
Next colons: and semis; are put through their paces,
And are frequently found in the oddest of places.
Quotations are more than just dressing or stuffing,
Yet often appear when "nobody said nuffing".
It makes reading a chore just to try to adhere
To a writer's directions of what to do where,
But you barrel on through 'til you get to the end,
Give your eyes time to uncross,
And then try it again.
Some poets abjure punctuation, for sure,
And though not a big fan,
I'm a reasonable man.
e e cummings, for example,
Responds to the call
By using little or no punctuation at all.
Author's note: To quote the author Cormac McCarthy: "If you write properly you shouldn't have to punctuate." Poets such as e e cummings, et al, apparently took him up on that. Please understand, dear reader, that this piece is punctuated incorrectly to make a point. And I blush to admit that I, myself, am overly fond of "quotation marks" and…ellipses.
The squawk of seagulls punctuates
The quiet by the beach,
Yet the lack of other noises
Makes relaxing within reach.
The wail of sirens doesn’t let
The city quiet stay,
For even in the early morn
The noisiness holds sway.
The chirp of crickets syncopates
The rhythm of the night,
So the quiet of the countryside
For dominance must fight.
A library or hospital,
Both recognized for quiet,
May hush incoming visitors
But I don’t really buy it.
For there are hums and whispers,
Of machinery or voice,
Which may pierce the silence and confirm
That quiet’s not a choice.
Maybe outer space is different,
But on earth I will refute
Any claim that there’s a place to go
Where quiet’s absolute.
We take great pride in our knowledge
Each generation thinking they are smarter than the ones before
The problem, it's a subjective egocentric perspective
There's an air arrogance that's hard to ignore
Modern man truly thinks he is smarter
Than all the greats who have been adored
They self-righteously say “they were ignorant”
“We are more sophisticated than ever before”
We see religions following cultures
Science has become subjective, selling feelings as facts
It appears man is the true measure of all things
We’re creating a world we can't give back
So, how do we overcome a life
Where we say we're blessed, yet in so much pain
The level of arrogance and avoidance
Punctuates the fact - most people never change
We've come to a precipice
Do we climb the mountain, or be content as life goes by?
We have to be willing to pay the consequences
Sit on our ass, or intentionally engage in life
Like an hourglass of sand
Who’s tiny grains have run dry
We can only hope for a better day
Perhaps we’ll have another try?
CLUSTERS
a retrospective
repurposed
in
colour
transformations
identified
& sampled
the
meticulous
punctuates
the
fascinating
variety
&scope
continuing
in
the
relished
lyrical
tradition
with
bewildering
narratives
&
excess
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
A piercing cry punctuates the silence
Make way
Pierced side and hands and feet
Pricks ears, pierces hearts
Unquenchable fire, unquenchable love
A wilderness wasteland or a narrow path
Choose this day, give your ears to hear
And live
My cat's P's of poetry –
punctuates everything I write
with a paw; when I'm composing, he slaps
at my pencil with...you guessed it,
his paw – yesterday, the fan blew my
precious creation, off of the miracle table,
and onto the resident predator's territorial floor;
followed by a savage attack: and yep!--a
shameless clawing paw. Let me share with you, our latest
collaboration:
Paw,
Paw,
Paw,
Paw.....
Rain-steps publish worms,
wriggles scribe themselves.
The thrown thud of a newspaper
punctuates the wet and written.
Sparrows scrawl and scrabble,
foraging starlings attack the earth
sounds squirm up,
muddy scripts are picked at, edited
a door slams,
the ground rewrites itself.
Rolling hills dim in the distance
Beneath low-hovering mists,
While an occasional stand of pines
Punctuates the shallow canyon rim,
The steppes to the summit appear
Like wrinkles carved into the face
Long ago, the sharp outcropping defines
A deep crevice plunging sharply
Toward the foreground in shadows,
Vanishing into imagined darkness.
written August 10, 2021
(inspired by the scenic view on a
screen-saver, location unknown)
subtitled: Lyrics by Lamoureux
He writes upon his poet's harp complex chords of life,
motivational music to halt us
from following malicious men -
fractured minds of mankind.
He writes peaceful melodies to soothe restless thoughts;
He write knowing only a few will sing.
The lyrics of the hopeful striving for upswing
find like voices in those who untie knots
from threads miserably entwined.
His voice punctuates with his pen,
joining writers prepared to oppose injustice
while harping on the foibles of strife.
Richard plays warfare’s veto on drum and fife,
combatting behavior that’s treasonous.
Bias seen time and time again,
protest throngs unaligned.
He notes unfair sanctions on free speech and boycotts;
He composes words to caution our offspring.
January 30, 2021
edited slightly for dramatic monologue
contest: My Significant 2021 Poem
sponsor: Beata Agustin
contest: Political Verse
sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
originally written for
contest: My Invented Form - I Write Upon
sponsor: Constance LaFrance
Evening breeze
Dry cool comfort;
Punctuates hazy day
~~~~~~~~~
Busy feet pound
Park walkway path;
Morning work rush
~~~~~~~~~
Birdsong echoes
Dawn salute;
Morning Glory flowers
~~~~~~~~~
Food paradise
Spoilt for choice;
Same old dish
~~~~~~~~~
Scented perfume
Floral sensations;
Charming delights
~~~~~~~~~
Promenade walkway
Airy seaside smells;
Evening serenade
~~~~~~~~~
Abrupt dusk
Darkness blankets;
Eyes stare blindly
~~~~~~~~~
Distant afterglow
Moist evening sky;
Hint of rain
~~~~~~~~~
Words slip away
Memory loiters brief;
Lost sad story
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
20 September 2019
Singapore
Phantasmagorical punctuates a surreal,
Hallmark feeling of wonderment—
A juxtaposition of
Normal and extraordinary
That is tethered to euphoria
And amazement, yet
Simultaneously anchored to reason in a
Mesmerizing, magical way.
A spontaneous exclamation of awe,
Generated by the sheer intensity
Of the moment,
Representing a feeling of
Incalculable wonder and fantasy that's both
Cerebral and physically overwhelming—
A merging of astonishment and joy,
Like winning the lottery or experiencing an epiphany..
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