Life a genesis, oh
A path toward vacancy
Trim down a modulation of lube apathy
Dirt arm's craving toward end! neither
The thorn was there , oh
Mesmerized by puppies tearing neck for the muddy popcorns
I myself giggle with lacrimal fallacy
Bone to bone, crate to crate
Waving with thermal fate
Rinsing heavily with northern gray, oh...
Written: August, 22, 2026, for this Week's Poetry Challenge: No Letter E
***************
Autumn walks, a vagabond in gold,
gamboling in gossip,
rinsing last growth
from trunks with song hush.
A crown of ivy and wilt,
a bold tomboy with worn charm,
rushing through cloudlands
as Icarian murmur—
gauzy, mournful, godly.
Calyx cracks,
stalks twist
fronds scour air with art,
all a glyph of adios.
Sky foam grows thick—
gassy, gaudy,
a cosmic curse of color and closure.
Birds hiss through mist
as urging ghosts.
Not an idyll of gods,
a labyrinth of motion,
a slow waltz,
as foolish visions fall into dusk.
Still, in loss of sun's glow, joy stays—
a holy cornucopia of final acts.
A tonic of rot,
a song of parting.
Autumn bows to nobody
a smash of vanity, a pliant mouth of hours,
gamboling past grand norms with talky charm.
At Autumn's call, folks prowl past,
pluck catharsis from vast hush,
sip sap of shift from that odd cup.
dew trickles, rinsing dusty leaves
cleansing the dark despair who grieves
exchanging daydreams for nickels
rinsing dusty leaves, dew trickles
rushing thoughts, over mountain streams
for nickels, exchanging daydreams
oh, the tears, so tied up in knots
over mountain streams, rushing thoughts
blazing sunlight, erasing fears
so tied up in knots, oh, the tears
cherish the still of dawn so bright
erasing fears, blazing sunlight
gentling praise, love to which I’m drawn
so bright, cherish the still of dawn
weeping words beneath sun’s soft gaze
love to which I’m drawn, gentling praise
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There’s a pleasure in the woods that feels like prayer,
a gentle warmth that rises with morning the air.
There’s a pleasure in the woods that feels like grace,
a hush of soulfulness that calms me in this place
There’s a pleasure in the woods that feels like rain,
a tender rhythm rinsing off my old wounds and pain.
There’s a pleasure in the woods that feels like God’s breath,
a slow release that loosens my human fear of death.
There’s a pleasure in the woods, a heavenly song,
a birdsong truth that carries my soul along.
There’s a pleasure in the woods that feels like prayer,
a quiet knowing: Spirit meets me there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The river didn’t ask
what I was rinsing off~
it just moved,
warm and carefree,
around my wrists.
I knelt there long enough
for the current to forget
the shape of my hands,
for the silt to swallow
whatever slipped from my fingers.
And when I stood,
dripping and empty,
the sun didn’t hiss sinner~
it just dried me,
quiet as a pardon.
Now I walk lighter,
puzzled by the lack of weight.
Where is my guilt? Where is my shame?
The answer’s simple:
Confessed~
Gone downstream,
turned into stones,
into minnows,
into nothing.
I am a watcher. I watch. I think. I am standing by a laminated wad of rotting brown ice; glacier. Somehow she is more resplendant for her age and degrading slough. She will carve off in hunks, destined to float in the sluch of a Svalbard inlet. Destined to become brown water a million years old. And this is still beauty. A beauty of age is of more substance than a beauty of youth, for it as endured millenia. Like the Greenland Shark; he lives for hundreds of years himself and is beautiful. For his knowledge.
dying ice sloughs off
melting, warmth of ice water
rinsing off shark remnants
It took a week for me to pack,
For, wracked with indecision,
I wanted to be sure each day
I’d have the right provision.
The pants, the skirts, Capris and tops,
The sandals, dresses, make-up,
The jewelry and lotions,
All prepared for every wake-up.
I’d zipped it up, ensuring that
I’d covered all the bases
And checked it in where it was stacked
With all the other cases.
Alas, it never made it through
And, though the airline tracked it,
It’s in another place, despite
The care with which I’d packed it.
I’m making do with what I wore,
With just a nightly rinsing.
To never check a bag again?
I do not need convincing.
I sneaked in the house late last night
Couldn't risk turning on the light
Tripped over a chair and took flight
I felt the smite I felt the smite
A bruise appeared upon my thigh
Although from drinking, I was high
Without having an alibi
I'd have to lie I'd have to lie
I tried to keep my self-esteem
Covered it with expensive cream
But touching the spot made me scream
A faulty scheme A faulty scheme
Wife heard and asked, "What happened here?"
I said, "Sorry to wake you, dear."
She didn't believe me, I fear
I smelled of beer I smelled of beer
My suff'ring was not convincing
She used curse words without mincing
When washing dishes and rinsing
I am wincing I am wincing
I'll never pull that stunt again
Wife threatened me with ball and chain
Inside our house, the shrew does reign
She is insane She is insane
I feel....
I feel the fresh scent of rain
Like wings, it spreads out with life
And ascends the hills of hope
I perceive....
I perceive gushes of boost
Spilling in Mother Earth's belly
Rinsing all its leaves with strength
I sense...
I sense the fragrance of rain
Fiercer than the former
Dissipating through the blues and deeps
I see...
I see the tree wave for joy
And the land open up its tummy
To receive the gracious tears of the sky
Know...
Know the hope this scent of rain brings for you
Believe that it’ll surely rain again
Even when your land’s been long dry
Like the sparkling stream flowing down the hill
I see you dance around my green meadow,
Feel the air of ecstasy standing still,
Enticed by the ripples, your shy smile shows.
Shimmering dawn flushing the horizon
Masks your mystique face as the red sun burns.
Yearning splays hues in the sky of my own,
Straying there to wisps of cloud your smile turns.
Treading in blue night you’re drenched in stardust,
Enigma like sparks on you I see glow,
Rinsing you with secret aura of lust,
Its cadence in your smile begins to flow.
Even if from close many times I see,
Still, for me your smile is a mystery.
December 14. 2020
Syllable count : 10 per line (howmanysyllables.com)
Contest : Lifes Mysteries
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Yes, I remembered my glasses
I even remembered to dust them
before I put them on
so my eyes don’t tear all over my face
from my allergies.
I remembered my pads
so I don’t leak in public
so I don’t poo in public when I cough.
Into my mouth went my new teeth
which I hate as they don’t fit right.
My ears were carefully placed so
I wouldn’t forget them.
I like them a lot
As I can hear what you say now.
I laid everything out on the bed
before I took my shower…
underwear pants, shirt, jeans jacket
black denim pants, and black and white
stripy shirt.
When I finished scrubbing, rinsing,
towel drying my hair until it curled,
I thought…
How do I turn off the shower.
bobbing for apples
with candy corn rotten teeth -
rinsing with water
10/26/2018
If you've noticed there's no problems,
the government has too.
There's a billion cars poluting
and a mask to put on new.
There's a tax upon your property
for nothing they might do.
And a pox upon your neighbourhood
the cops will card at you.
There's a billion kitchens rinsing
what the government calls trash.
Where the people doing the rinsing
pay the bill of their own cash.
And a group of food been modified
they pass off as organic.
With no label to say otherwise
and keep us guessing frantic.
And a thousand private food banks
telling government we're poor.
When a wealthy funded welfare
should exist for our tenure.
Making several billion dollars
from a loan invested gold.
On a mint who's plates are rendered
for a government to hold.
Where the deed to our own dollars
are a travesty of old.
And the breech of our own value
for the talismen's last fold.
Where no food's upon the table
and the market sold to one.
That the note to one another-
"Hold your own until you're done".
It started with
a drop that burnt my forehead at first,
then dissipated before it
had a chance to cool.
Denied passage on the path that traces my jawbone, ending where my mouth falls into a frown.
The sun was too quick to claim it.
Yet, there was no repudiation of the rush that followed as the long overdue clouds gave birth
and Earth received their babies,
afterbirth and all.
I stepped off the porch,
eager for the dirt to turn to mud,
which clung between my toes.
Then---
I held out my foot and watched as
the water streamed down either side,
rinsing the dirt away.
Clean. As it should be.
Will you dance with me,
now that the rains have returned to Zimbabwe?
It started with
a drop that burnt my forehead at first,
then dissipated before it
had a chance to cool.
Denied passage on the path that traces my jawbone, ending where my mouth falls into a frown.
The sun was too quick to claim it.
Yet, there was no repudiation of the rush that followed as the long overdue clouds gave birth
and Earth received their babies,
afterbirth and all.
I stepped off the porch,
eager for the dirt to turn to mud,
which clung between my toes.
Then---
I held out my foot and watched as
the water streamed down either side,
rinsing the dirt away.
Clean. As it should be.
Will you dance with me,
now that the rains have returned to Zimbabwe?
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