uteric fire rises glowing across
sacral waters, delivering
umbilical vibrational luminosity
to crown —-
I am Phoenix from Golden Sun
arriving black vulture feathered
scattering ash you lovingly
sowed …
crimson mirrors my pupils
pierce each cell
penetrating what is to
transmute as Rubicon awaits not
rabid roaring apricot black ____
veined breasts exude milk
for next
i l l u s i o n ~
_________________
GOLD Placement Poem
Allpoetry May 26
Image Contest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sky is an ancient map,
drawn by hands that forgot their names~
figures named and strung together
by the thin thread of human need.
Here, a hunter forever chasing
what his arrow will never pierce.
There, a bear that never tires,
never lumbers down to earth.
We point and say Look~
as if the stars agreed to this arrangement,
as if they whispered their shapes
into the ears of shepherds and sailors.
But the universe is careless with its light.
These are only accidents,
burning debris caught in the dark,
and we are only creatures
desperate to make patterns
from the scattering.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
rustling hedge shakes free~
red breasts scatter like embers
claim the thawing earth.
Winter’s grip splits at the seams.
The earth exhales. The worms stir.
Love, since I first saw you, you are a dream scattering through my thoughts,
like a river of light flowing ceaselessly through the valleys of my silent mind.
I try to forget you, if only for a day, to find peace in the silence of forgetting,
but my heart refuses to part from you, anchored in your eternal longing.
Since my heart began to beat in your rhythm, I am a prisoner of longing,
for your laughter is the symphony that fills my days, and your smile, a meadow of dreams,
a living painting in the gallery of my soul, where each glance is a promise,
and, love, I just want you to know that you are the source of every smile I wear.
In the quiet of velvet nights, when stars weave stories about you,
I wonder if you too listen to the song of my heart, which finds its peace in you,
a longing that burns eternally, like a lighthouse illuminating the path in the darkness of time,
always leading me back to you, where every moment becomes a living poem.
Dark grey clouds begin to form in the morning sky
Strong winds develop leaves begin to fly
In the distance, a boom of thunder creates a sinister sound
Rain pours from the heavens scattering children from a nearby playground
Up above lightning dances across the sky
Small planes become grounded far too dangerous to fly
Storm drains start to overflow too much water to bare
Time to seek shelter no time to spare
Trees from a nearby forest begin to sway side by side
A car pulls up the driver offers me a ride
An act of kindness I can’t refuse
I found my escape from this incredible deluge
SCATTERINGS
anticipates
in sequence
a
breathtaking
possibility
constructive
& respectful
but
otherwise
unremarkable
a
distinctive
image
a
level
of reverence
in a
designed pattern
a
comparative
once
formed
as
a key
approach
clearly
meaningful
to explore
the
long-forgotten
idiosyncratic
&distinctive faux-naif style
with innate ability
to elevate
the everyday
carefully
spotlighting
&highlighting
an important facet
to celebrate
innovation
Don't dare joke with their doctrine
Nor raise it in a latrine
Like had tried Goofing Kathrine
Now melted like margarine!
Their Doctrine not in bathrooms:
Bathtubs never living rooms;
Their camera can scenes zoom,
As one body choose your doom!
One they won't mind battering
And one's tressure scattering;
No rowing of one's bought boat
No testing of one's new coat...
You they shall tell with cleared throat
" Your body shall in pond float!"
Its Malice that won't Vanish;
Evil thoughts they won't banish.
One's ill respite, ne'er distantly
the acclimation's Faith as sight
before the God of might stay free,
as justice arbitraries fight!
My land, my kin, my own insight
in peril, e`er the speaking's height.
I bow, this distance, kneeling's plight
in some small space, withdrawn, ne're flight!
Oh, God of mercy kindle quiet
that I may speak to Thy invite,
forgive that order's serving sight
a scattering ~ that invokes contrite!
You were drawn to its contours
worn smooth by the elements
over eons of existence;
cream colored and streaked with grayish blue
with its scattering of sparkle -
ensconced in the sand
special amongst the many on the rocky beach
a souvenir from the shore
of the day we walked in its mist
and the wind blew our footsteps
this way and that way
as well as our thoughts
while we reminisced…
now..
it is where you left it;
stoic
and sentimental
it stands vigil
on the small windowsill
overlooking the pathway to my door
awaiting your return
my beloved daughter
...as it patiently endures
it is the perfect representation
of
my heart
Susan Ashley
July 30, 2018
Translucent thoughts
linger on the breeze.
A sigh’s echo, counted,
trailing beneath the trees.
Images in fluctuation
reliving days gone by.
If only in the memory…
when it’s not feeling shy.
Leaves of change engulfing
the seasons that are spent
Now scattering what is now
and all that was
the day it went…
© Debra Squyres
3/17/15
Gathering a plethora,
of abandoned blossoms high and low,
a covered basket and pockets full.
Light footsteps through shady trees
releasing dainty blooms for me,
nature’s soulful aliment like a
rainbow placed strategically
for a little girl's innocent eyes.
Blooms falling into my hands
on a wooded path for one,
then scattering to the wind,
a fanciful dance, free of
pending frailty; prancing
petals take flight
before their glory fades...
How can I preserve
God’s majestic beauty,
petals adorning a late
spring breeze? The newly
green earth and trees -
watch me, watch them.
I am but one girl
gathering blooms
to press between
pages of time or
seep into an intoxicating
potpourri. I could take
a snapshot of these
sacred scatterings but
never could a photo
fill my senses -
the sweet scents,
sounds and touch
of blooms on
a wooded path
and breezes all
around my face,
the sight of God’s
majestic beauty
in a magical place.
If I had one wish it would be, to share
these magical moments with you.
The blue Sky is copied,
And,
Pasted on the Oceans!
As virgins, the roses flew.
Slowly drifting and scattering,
Themselves amongst the ashes of love.
There whispers of adoration now silenced.
But as dawn rose so did the roses,
And peacefully they did drift, like a dove.
Until they touched the black,
And golden sea that is your hair.
Slowly sliding down towards,
Your lips, and like rain the roses slid.
And when one met with your lip,
It too became a lip.
Then out of that lip a being started to form,
Out of the sweetest of love,
And the purest of lips.
That you posses.
The roses were now a man,
Who at last found his sweet lily.
America, in this modern age
Population so proud
On their ancestors heritage
But in the annuls of time
Not that long ago
To a new world they came
Immigrants so
They travelled far and wide
Some further than most
Open invitation from their American host
Many reasons
As they left their homes
Some directly
While many roamed
To America's shores
In their many ports
Protection by, their military forts
To the land of plenty
And the home of the free
Where many immigrants settled
New future, families
The Scots Americans
Now American Scots
Left their shores
From a country so fraught
To sail the Atlantic
And escape the wrath
To hone in on their freedom path
To wear their plaid
A tartan true
America, has pulled us through
" Blàr Chùil Lodair - The Battle Of Culloden "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/scotland.php
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