Fire-engine
Now that it is autumn going towards winter
I often think about morbid things to avert this
I think of what I liked as a child.
The sound of the fire engine rushing through
the town; ran after it and felt heroic.
Often the fire was far away when I got there
it was too late; the fire had been small
rubbish burning in junkyard sot on a wall.
Firemen, rolling up their hoses, they
were called that, now they are firefighters
to make it more inclusive, mind you, I have
never seen a female among them, I knew
there were women at the fire-house.
I went there to have mother’s kitchen knives
sharped; they deftly wrote on typewriters.
I was going to be a fireman, they looked so
tall and tough, spitting manly.
Alas, a few years down the line, they grew smaller.
short and tall paint brushes
paints pencils sharped sketch pads all waiting . . .
muse flat
_____________________
February 12, 2021
Poetry/Modified Senryu
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1328-098-12
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, All Yours (Feb 14)
sponsor, Brian Strand, Judged 02/14/2021
I feel i must breathe out these flames,
Wreathe it on a sword and fight out these things
Cascading down these chambers of my mind
Searching to refine everything searing on my mind
Something to salve and clear the mind of mine that is blind
You know your time when notes begin to rthymn
Forming for you these visions that allow you to look through
My eyes
It grows with time until the blades edge is sharped and fine
Unseal and reveal everything in with the hymns
Storm the emotions while thunder cries
The key to feeling loved—attention
sharped or flatted drilled or bored,
love demands attention that’s the score—
marry the compound emotions of gist and jest,
sing the song of sorrow serene:
lay lie Ophelia on the waves of death
but grab the stage please.
Separated, longing, faceless, safety falsely felt
instruments of creation writhe in amour
lipping candied words across a span of white
following the cursor through the long night
a bouncing ball while music
plays, lovers seek delight.
Age, an unseen pain does not betray the seeking heart
wrinkled countenance denied by purloined words,
heat self-fingered brings release percussed by tapping
indexes, moans cascade to vibrato trills alone
Attention to the tale, the changing platform of the frame
love unknown, unfounded, forms within the detail of the page.
Contest: The Pain of Night
an orchestrated night glitters
to the wand wave of the maestro unborn
sweetness licks on liquorice sticks
fingered on silver keys
the moon melts like a honey drop
as sopranos sing
in harmony the coyote calls
base notes cajoled by passing horns
meld as cicada rub the reeds
legging each sharped phrase
with intonations of delight
It was too dark ,
Without a single spark.
The lonleyness biting you ,
Like a sharped teeth of a shark.
Leaving you with a frightful mark ,
Your heart shaking from the tears that bark.
Listen to this voice ,
That breaks through the sadness ,
Releasing you ,
From the tights of the madness.
You have been dragged to the bottom ,
For too long ,
Forgeting to remind oyurself ,
Captivation is what makes you strong.
Consider every exposed sight ,
Before bringing the thought ,
For what is right.
What of who has pushed you away ,
It is already becomed a passed day.
Where you want to stand ,
Is the current matter ,
Remark your place with determination ,
Is when it begins on better.
Sandy ‘winds roars, deadly Sandy roar ashore
As the night darken, the people screams no more! No more!
You Ocean whore!
Along the broad walks Hurricane Sandy barreled towards land. ...
Ripping two beautiful little angels from their mother’s hand
Cockamamie dwellers, fled from their homes
The high winds were no match for fowl, beast or man
Sandy winds roars, Sandy roar ashore
Leaving tons of sand;
On the main land
Roof tops, the barbed wire, with sharped edges were defeated
Mortal men lost again to winds of fate.
Sandy winds’ roars, she whistles; she roars ashore.
The long summer of 2012 became a dream
While our footprints fade in the sand
Our hearts ripped apart
We prayed in the dark. : For calm and peace
Everywhere she went it was darkness
Our hearts ripped apart
We prayed in the dark. : For calm and peace
Please, please! Sandy spared us please.
Drifting in what
you say,
a chord like resonance
far away.
I can hear it’s stark
stance. The sad, sad
droopy glance
of you.
The darkness you wear
does not bear
to the bright of your mind.
I’ve gone blind!
sharped, then oblique,
like the poor weeping
meek.
Time is weak,
trickery of the eye
is all, when you
blink you fall.
And the jester that laughs,
the dreamer that cries,
both sit upon the spines
of sentences,
while blowing smoke like sighs,
through chromatic
images.
This is time:
The wall of
vines, of slick moss,
bricked in around
you pay the cost
on credit. Bad, corrupt credit...
credit chaos
is what plastic and deceit
create.
Innate,
minds need to
investigate truths.