Short Blares Poems

ancient nymph bard sings 
mournful melody of dance
dandelion blares




6/30/2019...

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A comedy of errors
like the keystone cops
as their message blares
the madness will never stop.......

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Distant dogs
bark at rainclouds

Dead moons
collide with the living

A television blares
from a plastic
coffin

He watches distant dogs
hunt the sleeping...

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Sun ripe and rotten flavor.
Thousand seconds gone as panic blares.
Shown in laughter calls and scalding winters.
Throw emotion to the wolves and see how it fares....

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A horn in jazz is a lot like a heart.
At times it blares it's loudest in love.  19

 

At times a pin drops in silence.
The neighbors won't complain. 14

 

I never thought God to be a fan of blues.
My ears like an open door.  17...

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disco lights roam the walls 
music blares loudly; breaking through 
the silent dark 
screams and cheers break through
 every beat the DJ plays
men and woman dance together
meshing against each other; chest to chest
to sum it up; with my lover with me, 
this night is the best....

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jive time blares
ju ju bees can do
slide trombone
breasts on view
colored plastic beads dangle
the men toot and hoot

beer bongs rise
lust fills the side walks
white lines drawn
ambulance
and still they keep on coming
party on baby 

Poet: D. Guzzi
Contest:~SHARE A SHADORMA~...

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My wrists dripping red
thinking bout what you said.
my eyes raining tears
while my music blares!

you turned me into trouble
showed me the dark side of life.
never before, would i have
picked up this knife.

Its all i got now
i need to feel.
all the pain, and anger
is the only thing thats real....

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Fire flames unfurl, morphs in the grim distant horizon.
Smoke whirls as music blares and time to close;
Empty bottles to dispose. His soccer team lost,
Cost its chances at winning a gold medal.
At the end of the night, he didn't get the girl,
Had to settle and curl up with his dog Pearl.


3/1/2022...

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An earful of breaks...
in overnight silence,
the ticking clock,
crickets chirping,
r-r-r-r-r-o-w-l!
a cat fight,
midnight,
a siren blares,
dogs howl,
a hooting owl,
the mouse...
at prowl,
a plane zooms...
on high,
motors, whining,
tires, as 
trucks and cars
go by,
all announcing...
River City life,
Louisville, Ky....

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The house beside mine
Is a carbon copy
Through coated in grey
And the inside smells of cats and cigarettes 
There are dogs begging to be released
And their howling comes up from the basement
While the TV blares
With no one to watch it
The driveway is empty
Because they rarely see each other
Oh, to live in a white house
I count my lucky stars...

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As Bon Jovi blares
I thinkabout you.
Livin' on a prayer?
That's what this feels like too!

Maybe you are my
Gift from God
To let me know he's real.

As I close my eyes,
I can feel your hand
Carressing my neck.
Now I need to be fanned!

I never wanted another man
The way I want you.
You've brought light 
To a place that's been dark.
You are my white knight....

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innocents throw snowballs at traffic

whiz to the past, where

a parent would receive their little scoundrel

and a swift scolding. . .


swiftly we return to present day

where the payout for a child’s slight:


sadly it’s raining bullets

and the innocents fall

like Autumn leaves

red and pale


a cold call

a siren blares

life’s not fair!


1/7/2020...

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Distant dogs bark
Rain clouds
in the internal weather
of the yet unknown
~
Did we, like satellite moons,
on the outer orbital rims
of a blind universe
just collide?
~
She brushes my long hair,
the hair is a ghost
long fallen.
A barbershop chorus
modulates its harmonics.
~
A deaf television blares
out of his coffin.
He has changed channels;
gone are ears of the watchers....

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Lost in love, playing truth or dare
 Living in a spell bound worlds affair
 Hide or seek with-in a devils lair
 Slipping all around without a care
 
Leaving behind a million cares
 Paceing myself as the music blares
 Looking back through peoples stares
 Hey me and you in the mirror there
 
Us together make a pair
 Practicing for if your ever here
 Wanting only you to end up there
 Wishing wanting without a fear...

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Eyes Staring, Bleeding Through I cannot see
Coughing up Blood I cannot Breath
It's all around
I begin to drown
It's my blood

I cry and squirm for air
Grabbing for things that are not really there
The muzik blares

My ears are bleeding I cannot hear
Only Feel
Feel the Fear
Creeping down your spine
Collapsing like a fallen vine

Climbing up searching for hope
Only to guess there's no way to cope...

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To the public the man shows herbs
For Advert hundreds of proverbs
"Your worries and mine wisdom curbs!"
Lots of Adjectives and Adverbs;
On roads blares, neither dumb on kerbs
Voice screaming hoarse near touring Serbs...

But the Old Seller of New Herbs
Settles for nothing short of blurbs,
The problems of voice pitched high curbs
And down brings number of proverbs...

"Buyers I see less for sung herbs"...

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as the sun blares through my window i jump to my feet,awaken 4 the day by the sounds of the street.the 
sound of birds chirping  raindrops on the ground,the sound of cars passing observing life all 
around.so as my poems really express my everyday views,it's a gift that i have to uplift and 
amuse.it's amazing 2 me how a simple thought can be so complex,that was the thought for the 
day just check out the next...

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Some people say it claws its way out the artist like a demon
As if ripping his soul instead of flesh
Then fervor bursts like blood
So that a painting anthropomorphizes
How then will the canvas look like
If the stirring’s wreaked by the lord of hell?
How will the music ring if Diablo clobbers the drum?
Will there be songs or only blares of Armageddon? 

I LUST TO WRITE POEMS.
THIS PEN ITCHES FOR YOUR BLOOD!...

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In the book of ashes 
In the words of offerings, burnt 
They are hard bright, it blares white

Like the stars gleaming cold, rare 
Nights passes as the gods of old, 
Stand in silence, stare 

In the book of ashes 
There are the marks of man burnt lashes 
Across Adams back, the martyr 

Scattered as the dust, fine grains of ash 
Remains suspended in the blast, turn 
To carbon at last 

So it is written 
In the book of ash...

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A lonely night
Staring in the wall
Of eternity
A phone call
A glance

A second chance
Is out of sight
But not groovy
In the scenes
Of a movie

Blanked out
Black sleep
Rehearsal
For death

(a calm, breathless coffin)

a porch swings
a window blares
heat

sweat sires unreason
and a season of visions

dripping colors
Absinthe abstained

Schizophrenia unchained

(birds fly teeth grit)

a cool song plays on

revelation in a second

a dove flies echoes...

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4:00 AM
The phone dances across the nightstand
and a wake-up song begins to play
But a sleeping mind can't understand
that it's time to face another day

4:15 AM
Now a second round of music blares
after the snooze cycle ran its course
A groggy mind finds it hard to care
hits the snooze with a little more force

4:30 AM
The damn song is now stuck in my head
another alarm I cannot shirk
I manage to slide across the bed
forced to face another day of work...

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dusk comes now
                            in dress of velvet snow
                 the last bang splintered fractals of light
            and set the universe to dance in day and night
  music made the mazed world, and spheres' songs winging flight
                surged  love muted strains in shells that blares
                            a melody and snares
                                singing spheres  










David Smalling for "Night Melody" contest, 8/23/2012...

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You know you're on the letter X
when love bites.
You heart blares out, like a cellphone;
you muffle the noise.
Hold the goddamn button.
You're okay, no harm done, right.
Think Pink Floyd song about breathing in the air.
Love that doesn't kill us makes us weaker.
The knock down seems to last forever. 
So tell me how you fee? Asks the therapist.
Is it still a tremendous bomb from a blinking height
smashing into you?
I don't really know, it's foggy confusing these days....

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The shofar fills the synagogue
With sounds which once were heard
On ancient plains, where ancestors
Were possibly interred.

Each Rosh Hashanah, patiently,
I wait to hear those notes
Come pouring through the twisted horns
Of sacrificial goats.

Those resonating plaintive blares
Both echo and resound,
Reminding us another year
Has somehow rolled around.

I’m not at all religious
But just once a year I go
To a temple where I’ll get to hear
That mournful shofar blow....

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