clapping their wing
with
effortless grace
the
seamless flight
of
the
black butterfly
spiraling
through
the
baritone blue sky
let
us
walk by fath
and
not by sight
as long as I see the sky spread seamless I’m happy it hasn’t fallen
seamless affection
will never crumble apart
when together we will always fit
soothe my innermost heart with a rhythm.
never schism
my soul
loved you from start
serenade wraps me ~ as cape
my love for you is burning bright
passion thrived
Written: May 12, 2023
Song of my heart Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: JCB Brul
Words
Appear to
Separate the
Seamlessness
Of what is..
Standing
Ready to name
That which has
No name..
Not 2 appearing
As 2..
Seemingly the
Fundamental
Story before all
Other stories
Are told...
Seamless Sky.
A sea of fluffy cotton wool,
clouds of changing scenes,
that softly but swiftly
move above our world of dreams.
A picture painted every day
to colour days gone by,
the artist sees a different stroke
with a gaze up to the sky.
The silence of the birds
that take the form of peace in flight,
prepare us for the beauty of
the Seamless Sky infinite.
‘Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust’
frozen in stitch by a “toy soldiers rust.”*
Time remembers the scent of his hair,
the fold of the clothes as she left them there.
He was sampling youth when the bugle blew
a boy knowing nothing he thought he knew
answered the call of a nation’s need
denying the truths that soldiers bleed.
‘The war years seemed like only yesterday’
as he wandered, tattered, in disarray,
lost in the grip of a chevron’s cold stain
each breath sadly humming death’s cold refrain.
Threads of his life unraveled by peace
scent of fresh cloth, destroyed, out of reach
his life ebbed away, a flickering spark,
’The candle sputtered, spent, and all was dark’
©4/14/2018
*reference to poem “LITTLE BOY BLUE” by Eugene Field
submitted to – One nine and sixteen – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Viv Wigley
In the depth of darkness opaque and dense,
ground doesn’t hear the footfall of silence.
Burning sets of piercing eyes hover and stare
at the static secrets of the still mystique air.
In the stillness profound and intense,
twilight of the dying day fades in distance.
The animals of the night prowl and stalk
the haunted before they can hide in the dark.
In the wilds the nightriders move and face
the animals in them in the darkest of space,
turn into predators deadly and noxious,
creating the sinister creatures of menace.
Beneath the sheath of silence arcane and deep,
sordid spirits of the evil shadows creep.
Floating on unwary nascent night at its brink,
dip into the still sea of its soul to drink.
In the niche of squalid mind dark and evil,
the nightriders morph into daunting devils.
Animals of the dark carry the ominous desire,
seek space in seamless darkness to conspire.
Written : September 14, 2017.
February 11, 2020
Contest : Strand Select K, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor : Brian Strand
In came the cool fretting wind
Unwrapping the gathering waves
Unsettling a once scenery mind
Into a fist full of doubt
We stretched to view
The troubling distance
Unrevealing a present danger
Splashing and slashing
Every foot hold on reality
We were just strangers
With yesterday still fading
Becoming best friends;
It's amazing how life works,
Making such changes seamless
Seamless Breath
by Odin Roark
At sunrise,
Man-child of his heart,
Reaches past the years,
Washes little sleep down the drain,
Accepts the body once tight,
Combs the few strands still allegiant,
And uniforms the spirit
For today’s insistent strategy.
The street he walks
Presents new calendared thoughts
All in parade dress
Ready to forever advance
An abstract reality,
Where boots in lockstep
Accompany him beneath dim streetlamps
Of his insomnia.
Close by,
That place everyone calls infinity,
His aging self moves forward,
Fingering a few coins
In the playground-pockets of his youth,
Reminding him he can still pay his way,
He can remain part of…
Like so many other such days,
The breeze takes his hand,
Making lighter the books
He carries inside his head,
His secret Trojan Horse,
His means of entrance
To that place of voiceless teachers,
The forever windows without glass,
The blackboards erased clean
Of yesterday’s answers,
Anticipating today’s questions.
Such is the place he dreams each day with a smile,
Where eternity’s anima reveals the seamless breath of vision
Only visible with closed eyes.
"where do dreams come from?"
he lifted his head, perplexed,
and replied: "nowhere."
Cycles portray a continuum of seamless wreaths,
Wreaths of beauty portrayed in one cycle of love,
Love expressed in the flowers by the vine it cycles,
Cycles inwardly the bountiful nature of life,
Life is love’s action on all stages of life’s dramas,
Dramas of passions and dreams, life has many schemes,
Schemes of many senses; sounds, smells and feelings, life lives,
Lives as life confirms continuum of seamless wreaths!
For Contest: Christmas Wreath
In honor of Dr. Ram
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