Short Blackening Poems

I, simply I, I spy:

Into the blackening skies,
a lone goose flies.

So Hum.
I, I, I, I...

Just this.
I am
Endlessness...

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Clouds blackening
Lightning cracking
Thunder flashing
Wind blowing
Rain pounding
Gentle cleansing
Rain slowing
Wind fading
Thunder silencing
Lightning disappearing
Clouds dispersing...

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Hair falling off his scissors
Stopping the lengthening 
But not the aging
Blackening hair with his dye
Stopping the whitening 
But not the hair dropping
As the system of nature is
Irreversible...

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Burnt

ashen

ground

humid

dusty

quagmire

I rummaged in my hands

blackening fingertips

and felt peace

it was what was left

of her last letter

that had freed me of all

fetters....

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Day
                   Bright, Sunny
         Breaking, Appearing, Coming 
    Dawn, Morning, Cockcrow, Sunrise 
        Falling, Shadowing, Blackening
                    Dark, Dusky
                          Night...

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buildings 
of steel and stones

sprout up like weeds
filling in oceans 

cutting down 
mountains and trees

shading  bones
of past and present

blackening blue skies
and streams

as they take over now 
and future

encouraging the flies...

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dots of gold embers
dancing between starlit sky 
and blackening earth
can I be a torch bearer
to illumine the dark world



~Placed First~


March.11.2022
Firefly Tanka Poetry Contest
Sponsor- JCB Brul...

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Blackening the blankets of hardships persist
As my willingness to become more ideal 
Seems to hear what my heart insists 
Taking all that I wish to conceal 
The words murmur an undesirable secret 
Though still hiding within the lies that are needed to keep it....

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Anxiety's child
grows deep in me.

The seed of woe
and misery.

Impregnated
by my fears.

Embryo fed
by swallowed tears.

Yet I shall never
give her birth.

For she only
maintains her worth

by blackening
my heart and soul

and rendering 
my life's blood

cold....

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Fire falling from the sky.
Hitting earth.
Burning earth.
Blackening earth.

In a way purifying earth.
Purifying the wrongs.
Purifying the sins.
Purifying the hate.

Forgiving all that has occurred in the past.
All the senseless deaths.
All the useless violence.
All the things that have been done....

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Look around at the golden hues
shades ever changing

now look at the world, with its
blackening brow
dying embers of autumn flame

darker days are looming
the deepening rain storms
throwing down opaque
minions, thump
thumping the ground
wetting parched lips of
impassive need

just trying to survive....

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Roaming over the wheatfields
     their joints a-cranking
   insecticide fog blankets the air
     Oklahoma dustbowl bleeds 

   Relics of a bygone day, all angles they move
     ravaging fields and pests, pests and fields
   wheels of progress a-churning away
     blackening golden grain
                 ~ pests' entree, noonday...

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As I take a sip of this so-called ‘cancer stick’
I feel my lungs blackening 
I tilt my head back and exhale
The suffocating smoke turns into lovely ribbons
This soothing sensation only lasts for a moment, I am aware
When I end the life of this cigarette, stubbing it out
It will only be several handfuls of minutes
Before the lighter is summoned again
I am 
Addicted....

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These times of cringing discomfort contort my patience and test my love.
I descend and ascend upon baring the tears of bitterness. 
 The blackening innocence protrude rough edges of anxiety to which twinge and turn in the face of questions. 
Pain like panic screams and cries around this frustration. Anxiety burns through this person  consuming them with struggling hopelessness....

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I learned a murmuration is
a flock of starlings whirling and 
turning in the sky, changing 

directions in a second,
flying back again, blackening 
the sky in long sweeps until 

for reasons man doesn’t know 
the birds separate and fly away. 
A different murmuration now 

gathers on the sand and sends 
dedicated men to new locations. 
Berlin and Paris understand. 


Donal Mahoney...

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Snapping cracking  Box implodes on self, turning rapidly into an inferno
Smoke travels into eyes. I change chairs. Down wind was southwest
Now smoke is traveling due north Loud pop. Bright orange flames Flare up from twigs which are blackening and graying in a snake-skin type pattern.  The fire is alive. I watch fascinated.


baby flames bright orange 
springing up around gray ash 
crackling and popping...

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THERE'S PEACE IN THE BRIGHTEN QUIET

Those are the facts of times of life
There are peace in the quiet
The darkness come at day
Those are the facts of times of life
Blackening the skies from blue to gray
Brilliants shades of hope lit up bright white
Those are the facts of times of life
There are peace in the quiet

12/18/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©
Triolet...

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BLACK RIND

The scorching sun can’t dilute it’s tone
The tears neither can wash the dark away
No cream does the blackening, it’s indigenous
Insects and flies pose no harm to the tar.

The colour that defines majesty and endurance
The complexion that holds the magic
The magic that pans deleterious effulgence
Being in forests, deserts, ice grounds……….,
The magic still remains
            by Mashallo Samilo...

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*Fatalism*

Idiot politicians who believe in the belief 
that there is nothing to do to prevent events from happening
or to take precautions to lessen the risks
have already attempted to create a world blackening

To tell the truth, in my country TURKIYE, 
as a result of their NONSENSE religious beliefs
there are a great number of idiot politicians
like those mentioned in my poem...

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Dragon with words,
blazing poetic fire 
from the stage.
Deep meanings
of things unknown,
unknown meanings
of her deep night.
Voice wailing
solemn dark eyes,
glaring,
staring past the crowd
to envision
the road she traveled.
Unfortunate that she 
crashed so soon,
burning embers to ashes
blackening her soul,
scarring her
like track marks,
she never came back
the same.
The dragon with words,
was tamed....

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Black fire was furtively raging
after the massacre of moon.
I still stood with feet of clay
to experiment with my lies.

Bare neck hanging, something
has to be done, to make a gift
for the sake of truth, walking alone
without an effort.

I suddenly realize the illusion
and fail miserably in a perverted manner, 
make a mockery of the death trap
in a hospital of thumbs

down, to roll the carpet.


SATISH VERMA...

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Black fire was furtively raging
after the massacre of moon.
I still stood with feet of clay
to experiment with my lies.

Bare neck hanging, something
has to be done, to make a gift
for the sake of truth, walking alone
without an effort.

I suddenly realize the illusion
and fail miserably in a perverted manner, 
make a mockery of the death trap
in a hospital of thumbs

down, to roll the carpet.


SATISH VERMA...

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growth, nature, rain, seasons, summer, word play,

MIGHTY SUNFLOWERS © TANKA

Sunflowers in fields 
Bowing to the rising sun
Turning faced upwards
Withholding their mighty stocks
As all roots knit asunder!

growth, nature, rain, seasons, summer, word play,
 
HARVESTING © TANKA

Rain drops call from clouds
Wet the now blackening soil
New roots drink thirstily
Crops now grow from planted seedlings
Harvest 'feed' aplenty!...

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The chaotic cadence of falling rain
begins striking the pavement in evening's hours.
Up on the roof I hear the steady gain

of drops as sprinkling now becomes a shower.
The last of daylight's doves have all been slain
by a murder of crows in midnight flower.

Pins of light in puddles are raptors' eyes
that watch with growing fire the blackening skies.


Odd lines 1-7: ten syllables
Even lines 2-8:  eleven syllables...

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The imposing green dumpster stands
Like a Grecian altar, in what
Was supposed to be a driveway
One car beside it and a horde
Of cats walking around.
Every now and again someone
Approaches , not to deposit but
Find his next treasure.
Flocks of old people draw near,
They roam the outskirts of the
Green monster, for something
That’s been tossed… maybe they’ll
Find a new use for it…
A dike sheltering them
From the judging eye of the street....

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