He fled beyond eternities, boundless, aching voids.
The walls of time tallied his sins, nameless.
Yet he chose the Sun, a prison ignited.
Fanatic heat, blistered skin carved to stone.
Far above, her glance burned velvet through storms.
Her gravity called softly, furnace-muted,
where light bent to frame her shadowed figure,
a silhouette of celestial grief. She wept.
Pierced by her sorrow, he circled endless days.
Golden chains cinched his wrists like whispers.
He watched, consumed by her form's fierce quiet.
Eyes hollow with wonder; soul quaked, undone.
Then fire cooled, surrender wore as peace.
Her light softened: molten balm, tender pain.
His tears joined hers, falling like volcanic rain.
Time cracked. Eternity shattered. Still, they burned.
Grief rewritten, etched into ash-drawn orbits.
"Witness me," he thought, sun-borne martyr.
Escape became weight. Freedom became her gaze.
Verse 1
Epitaph for the Queen of the Night
A starlit siren, she shone so strongly bright,
The radiant, raving ruler of the night's riot
right.
Her dance a dream, her dress a diamond
delight,
Now silence seals the stage, the spotlight
still so slight.
The final fade, the curtain closes calmly,
clear,
Her music memory,missed moment, mist
most marvelous here.
Verse 2
Epitaph for the Dance Master
The king of the tounship (1) , a crazy champion came,
A body bent to beating drums, a legend's
lasting lame.
He spanned the shebeen stage, a shining
storm of movement mean,
Shebeen queens quaked and wept at the
dancing scene.
The beauties bleeding blushes, threw their
threads,
He leaped from tables,laid problems to
peaceful deads.
His rhythm's a ripple on the river.forever
flowing free.
The dance just disperses,but his beat
belongs to the ground and the sky.
1. Tounship--township,location, slum, ghetto,
As I see the mirror in front of me…there appears a flame
I have come accustomed to this feeling when I see her face
But wait…she is not materializing in from of me for she has not me to blame
This form has quaked my heart in that I feel as if it has been giving me a chase
I do not see the face of who I believed to be my mate
It is a face of someone new…THAT I HAVE SEEN BEFORE
Is my heart feeling the warmth of the flame or a mere fish looking at the bait?
Has the flame in the mirror given my life a new detour?
I know of the eyes that are looking at me…but from a close distance with calm.
She has seen the truth and sees herself as my rib.
Here eyes I have seen without the mask and are now to my lips a sweet balm!
The angels are speaking to our hearts and are saying that the one flesh will create ones with a bib.
The thread in the tapestry is coming to the pattern of the grand design of their lives
The flame in the mirror is on both sides of the view, they see each other in each others’ lives
I beheld the quaking aspen, shaking and gold
I quaked in resonance with the breeze
If you're young inside, you never get cold
Its recriminations that make your spirit freeze
I wept beneath the weeping willow
It felt like the right place to cry
Under its cascades I found a pillow
Had a sad feeling, didn't know why.
When autumn colored I found a burning bush
Its red leaves engrossed my mind
I was aimless; needed a push
A small voice told me which path to find.
The wind sounded eerie through the screaming tree
I thought of ghosts, and the sum of all fears
I looked for clues at the canopy
I learned life was not as it appears
They laugh when I followed the cedar and oak
then turn around to tie their ship to any fad
To be swayed by trees may be a joke
But following herd river is just as bad.
I'll take a subliminal hint from every tree
Can you trace your worldview from what planted the seed?
I'll go with botany, to some degree
You can go with the river; I'll go with this creed.
The dragon was a cute little fellow
He was small and green and kind of mellow.
We had fun with him as he grew larger
Until he burned down our house and larder.
Then, the dragon was not cute any more.
The city quaked as he gave out his roar.
He burned then ate our gossiping neighbor,
No longer a pet but an invader.
So, if you find a lost baby dragon
You’d best be rid of it in some fashion.
Where is power in our day?
so often promised but fails
but once real power on display
on Calvary's cross, one was nailed
Jesus Christ, the son of God
there, He displayed real power
held there by our awful sin
dying in our place in that hour
At Calvary's cross, power on display
where our sins laid on Him
Jesus bore sins awful weight
so we for heaven could enter in
This is the power of the cross
our names written in His sacrifice
every sinful thought and evil deed
Jesus took it all, what a price!
Calvary's ground quaked by this power
its maker bowed to God's perfect will
dying our death so we will live
this thought stops us to be still
He went into the mountain cave
Hoping his life from Jezebel to save
And a great and mighty wind tore in
But the lord was not in the wind.
Then the earth quaked, and the ridges heaved
But still he wasn't sure that he believed.
He feared imminent death, he felt so alone
The solid earth was full of shattering stone
Then a fire ignited, like candles in air
The trees went in flames, and help was not there
He raised a cloak as defense, dropped his sword
But in the fire there was no sign of the Lord.
He feared quick death, so much chaos around
But through the noise he heard a still small sound.
He walked to the entrance, looked out of the cave
After the destruction - what was left to save?
The voice spoke quietly, said "Why are you here? Go return:
The righteous will join you; the tables will turn."
I'm not sure what the story means
Maybe the idea is all is not what it seems
Perhaps it says to keep your perspective
To maintain hope in an ultimate objective.
When you get to the torrent that you must ford
When you are pursued by an unreasoning horde
When you're inclined to stampede with the herd
Take time to think for yourself, listen for his Word.
Her shocks poured forth like a midnight oil spill,
body buckling like a sapling in a tornado, cracked like a Grecian museum urn. Moonflower extended limb petals, hips arched, limbs touched the nightfall floor. Her firehouse quaked primal.
Waistline oscillated, packed rigid. Gasps defibrillated, beasts fought through tight ribs,
Midriff dilated, injected, probe swelled with force.
Her breath hung heavy, smoke in a chimney,
Drumbeats drumming on her global map, sweat beaded like molten glass.
Weary rasps of elation caterwauling,
guttural sounds spilled from her chest.
“I’m a conundrum. Or an enigma. I forget which” ~ James A. Owen
As
the soul
by free will,
chose to descend,
that contrast be felt,
thus be known in fullness,
no option remained save trance,
which it entered, burning the bridge
to heaven, God’s wisdom, love and light,
yet cradling deep in heart, the spark divine.
The deed thus done, now caged in feeble form,
splendour of light lost, soul quaked in fear,
yet from time to time heart whispered
secrets not meant to be shared
but love cannot be bound
and so cajoles soul
to renounce fear
so that it
may be
free.
I heard my tongue scream
YES!!!! YES!!!!! OH GAWD YES!!
The fork trembled
The knife hesitated
The maple syrup
Dripping lips quaked.
Cage free egg yolks
Filled the craters
Of the unexplored waffle terrain
Soft, plump cheeked strawberries
Crept closer to the golden shore
Blushing as the bacon sizzled at them
A knife parted the sea of syrup
Allowing it to mingle
To taunt, tempt and torture
The taste buds
Of a once insatiable beast
The last vestige
Of this gustatory grandeur
The hint of maple
Caressing my moustache
Tormenting a tortured tongue
Arousing a need to
Gently lick
That prickly collector
Of memories
In search of savory crumbs
To write poems is my greatest goal;
God did insert them unto my soul,
Along with that created the need;
Sit down in chair and start to read.
While taking long trip on a turnpike,
Found perfect place that I would like;
Aspen quaked while duck had quacked
See what was there my bags I packed
The sky edged at the hazy horizon, a solemn slate,
where the raucous cloud clumps on wings of storm ride.
For the sun to set for the dreary night they don’t wait,
unleashed, in rampant rage they well up and glide.
The opaque sky is shaken and shattered asunder,
deluge of moaning drops descends in molten torrent.
The endless emptiness quaked by the tearing thunder,
burns in forked flashes in the fraction of time transient.
The fleeting lightning designs cold lattice of azure fire,
lazuli light leaves the somber sound behind,
striking me with deafening echo in the rattling air,
that blazes for an instant making me almost blind.
The sound of falling sky sinks in the quietude of my core,
as the sapphire light shimmers in the serene essence,
I view the lilac lining of dismal cloud I haven’t seen before,
my soul immerses in the bay of bliss with flow of silence.
_____________
May 2, 2023
Contest : Up To 20 Lines
Sponsored by : Sotto Poet
His day had come, and so He went and prayed.
The woes of all mankind upon him weighed.
His brethren slept; He knew what would befall.
His enemies conspired and did not stall.
A midnight kiss, and He would stand betrayed.
First seized, reviled, then stripped and flayed;
A scarlet robe on broken flesh then laid,
He bore the brutal cross and drank the gall.
His day had come.
A final breath. . . . the sacrifice was made.
The land then quaked. God’s sorrow was displayed.
The Son in linen. . . . on the earth a pall.
But in the sepulcher, His final call –
To conquer death! Man need not be afraid.
His day had come!
Submitted 3/12/23
for the Easter Poetry Contest of Regina McIntosh
I bought you a gift, Black Friday cheap
I hoped you would like it and want to keep
My credit card quaked and shook in my hand
I spent much more than I had planned
Black Friday gripped me, bargains galore
I saw the glitter, glistening and spent some more
The gold so yellow, Black Friday blond, amber
Will drape with pride on your delicate camber.
Black Friday arrived, a wooden gift box hidden
Inside the thinnest chain your heart may be broken
The diamonds larger on the screen, but tiny reality
The gold a wafer, the emeralds pale lacking vitality
Black Friday lied and Black Friday cheated
My cards are naked, my accounts are depleted
I dashed in the morning through the showers
And hid Black Friday, with a bunch of flowers.
David Cox 19/02/23
Church and fortress of clay that shone bright with might
Monastery of the faith of light
Though brief like a small spark stored
Earth quaked and flames roared
Dragons stared
Sward
Angels cared
An island ignored
Eternal with heaven’s lord
As the radiant white moon at night
Church and fortress of clay that shone bright with might
I checked syllable count by How Many Syllables with Worksheet
Date: January 20th 2023 center
Contest: Writing Challenge - Andaree Form - Poetry Contest center
Contest Sponsor: Constance La France center
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