Written: August 5, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
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River,
rippling refrain,
rushing, rolling, revived,
ribbons of rain rearranging
rocks, roots, reflections — reckless, radiant.
Rivulets ripple, ringing rhythms
resound, reaching, reeling
rousing rare range —
River.
PAST refrain
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
I I I I I I I I I I
FUTURE pain
New morning sun
Caressed the hills, the quiet lake
New morning sun
Declared the star-filled night is done
With rays that say, time to awake
To the fresh start of this daybreak
New morning sun
Her lover's kiss
Fell on her cheeks like gentle rain
Her lover's kiss
Filled her with ecstasy and bliss
Thunder pealed, sweet kisses again
Heartbeats pound with passion's refrain
Her lover's kiss
4-23-2025
into night's refrain
flavored sighs stroke mound of lips --
weaving sweet passion
Why Can’t We Refrain From:
Gossip that hurts us
War that kills us
Hatred that divides us
Revenge that destroys us
Prejudice that separates us
Selfishness that defines us
Greed that impoverishes us
Corruption that demeans us
Egoism that dominates us
Because sin defines us
I shall refrain
From voicing my political taste
As it varies by occasion
A soft mushy oatmeal
Breakfast
Accompanied by a few
Blushing strawberries
A street vendor hot dog
With relish
And a side of sauerkraut
Washed down with
A finely distilled, purified
Arizona Aquifer water
A “choke and slide” PB&J
On the run
To pick up the grandkids
Fresh fruit and veggies
Of unknown origin
A flavorless meat mime
Of questionable authenticity
Milk, with an expiration date
Longer than mine
Dessert
The hope of the day
Soft, chewy, warmth
Draped in a whipped cream robe
Delivered
To another table.
The Empty Page
It sat there at my student desk
In wait of task to tend.
Write a poem, the teacher urged,
Your thoughts to paper, penned.
Intently, I perused the sheet,
Pale white and yet unmarked.
It lay there teasing my first move,
“Don’t leave me unremarked.”
This paper, college ruled and prim,
Well-bleached and full of aughts,
Stared blankly back at me to help,
With all my labored thoughts.
I searched the room for any clues
Of how I was to learn.
The clock was running faster now,
No time to wait and yearn.
I sat there squeamish and unnerved,
Too weak to brandish pen.
It was my first time close to death,
Too late for where and when.
Surely, all the class can see
My torment and refrain.
I’d rather have a spelling bee.
I’m circling ‘round the drain.
In looking back these many years,
My eyes were outward bent.
The chalkboard hung erased to black.
My mind, abridged, was spent.
But time has made its mark on me,
Halfway granting one old wish -
To find that poem in myself,
And give to Mr. Nish.
Robert Farrell Waltrip
Ghostly, my echoes are moans floating in the air
like muffled murmurs carried on the wind
or rippling waves across a calm sea.
If I'd been singing lyrics to a sad melody,
I'd hear the haunting words until they'd fade away.
Where they end up, I'll never know.
How far do echoes go traveling from here to there?
Maybe they scatter through distant hills,
whispering as if they're telling my secrets.
Gossips, repeating in the timbre of my voice...
always in a rush to run away from me,
like children playing hide and seek
who cannot hush to keep me from finding them.
Even now I still hear my words in refrain.
Echoes are mirrored images of my voice
but in reverberating sounds instead of visions.
Reflective and repetitive,
with the ability to mimic my words,
only speaking what's been spoken.
I wish they had the ability
to filter words I'd rather they omit.
Things that in anger, I scream and shout.
I doubt the reality of that.
Only echoes in the Twilight Zone
would be so bizarre to be able
to manipulate my voice with one of their own.
Strange, how much louder they sound in the dark.
Damnations symphony
strings of rust & bone
A skeletal hand strums…
Gears grind, hell’s teeth bite deep
A skull's silent sight
What secrets does it keep
Twisted dreams turned metal
N Rust, A haunting melody
A world's unjust. Shadows cast
Siren cries arise, From remnants of refrain
Truth that does not lie in silence
Rages in the void
Broken fingers, deft, now devoid
A spectral melody of rust..
Time's cruel symphony
Where skeletons, dance
Upon nights plutonium shores
Whispers in the wind screams unborn
A dance of the damn. Life's dream, stilled
This desolate landscape macabre, haunting
in a shattered heart.
From the chimes settling morning—
Another time, another change
I slept in your clothes yesterday;
The break in brass and sleep numbing
Red blur— buried color, holding
The lasting eyes in my love's grave—
Would this dawn, you could only stay,
Instead heaps of morning glories
Summer beats down, passing morning
On from our daydreams in the night.
Your ghost on some green there walking,
In shadows and flowers besides.
Winter, approach as ice now freed—
Our love for time, distance of chimes.
The lost refrain resurrects,
music of the spheres reflects,
absorbed by heart, voiced by mind,
songs sublime, loving and kind.
Slower than slow, slower still,
drop by drop, voids within fill,
as love in love, for love’s sake,
willingly burns at the stake.
All that that is, is a flame,
which on symbols lays its claim,
creating bubbles in space,
orbiting fulcrum of grace.
Poised at the in-between stage,
there being no wars to wage,
lost refrains become the cause,
to brighten the pregnant pause.
Toasted teacakes,parmesan cheese
Croquetted chicken,fricasees;
Apple dumplings,yogurt creamed
Welsh mutton,in pudding,steamed.
Baked Alaska,Banbury cake
Lyons ices with Cadbury flake;
Gorganzola buttered roll
Side salad oil drizzled,in a bowl.
Melba meringue,warm mince pies
Filet mignon,mushrooms and fries;
Sunday roast in dripping jelly
Onions and peppered tripe belly.
Trout poached,not microwaved
Slowly cooked,and no time saved;
Thick fishstock,bouillabaissed
Beefsteak so lightly braised.
Hash browns,sausage,gravy and mash
Casseroled stew or goulash;
Poached,simmered maybe pressure cooked
Tempting meals from Granma's book.
Where’s right terrain, rain as if asks,
Where to go, a train as if asks.
Utterly baffled of its task,
What if I bless, bane as if asks.
What should I do in state of Zen?
My mind in restrain as if asks.
Why too much should turn me bitter,
Upset, sugarcane as if asks.
Judge me not, I just do my job,
Innocent as if my pain asks.
Wonder, it’s safe on Earth to fall,
Meteoroids as if feign to ask.
Related, but how close are we?
The rhyme to refrain as if asks.
________________________________
Ghazal |01.02.2024|
In realms where emotions restrain.
Joy is sometimes followed by pain.
The heart is fragile like the brain.
Write your lyrics through a refrain.
If life repaid all of your tears,
would you be rich from all your fears?
When your sorrows refuse to drain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
When warblers do not sing your song,
in times you feel you don't belong
and it's difficult to explain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
When silence helps you to reflect,
slowly you begin to dissect,
questions that made you feel insane.
Write your lyrics through a refrain.
When endorphins start to ascend,
sun and sky are a pleasant blend.
Robins turn to hear your quatrain,
write your lyrics through a refrain.
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