Short Bleaching Poems

were it not for rage

          our bones would lay there yet …

     bleaching in the wind.






...

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the clotting of her 
soup hydrogen soup carbon 
timebomb becomes blood

the bleaching of hair
black turn brown then back to red
timebomb becomes blood

6/22/19...

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I raised my hands to hide the streetlights
bleaching out my view,
and then, my Lord, I understood it;
I was praising you.


Composed and posted - October 4th 2015...

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A blinding flash our planet will crash
To drab desertification
Burning up and drying out
To dust our monuments
Nowhere can we  hide
Bleaching  our bones
 With white heat
Caught cold
Doomed...

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He never stopped preaching
About the color of my hair
So I kept right on bleaching
and now there's nothing there 











Contest: Bad hair day
Sponsored by Rick Parise
Form: Chastushka...

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Black
                  Dismal, Dreary
     Shading, Darkening, Tarnishing 
Candlelight, Shadows, Twilight, Gloom
     Bleaching, Decolorizing, Snowing
                    Pure, Clean
                         White...

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Our  game show host,
in negative, 
teeth bleaching.
papering the cracks,
with good lighting,
and bad jokes,
We
never
see 
you 
coming.

Fluffed before countdown
but you never came,
your climax is waiting,
any minute now
there is no edit....

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Teaching should be
Engaging and Reaching 
Minds and Hearts
    Not Preaching or Beseeching
    and of course not Screeching
          or Bleaching
          the color out of the Truth
~ For Teaching should be all about 
     helping others seek Truth with their Reaching!...

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Do not shine that fickle light
 Intent on bleaching the truth from honest hearts

The ruling class of life shall come forth from the shadows
 Bringing with it an eternity of blindness.

And blind to truth shall we fumble through the trials of love and devotion,
 And in this harsh cruel light we shall fail....

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I swallow in the sorrow
Gulping whole this soiled, bleaching pain
Carry a strained smile
Choked in my mid breath

It's almost never ending
It can almost be heard
The hurt is almost lost
Too lost for words

I bury this smile
Choked in my mid breath
As the hurt transcends beyond
Almost draining

Too draining for words...

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I’ve fallen to the winter’s dust
And nurtured on His blood.
I’ve aged like desert sages green
That lean to bend the bud.

I’ve ripened under bleaching sun,
The rain and drifting dearth.
I’ve taken root in sifting sands
That rock this gentle earth.

Long withered past the dewy crown,
My blossomed seed dispersed,
I hunger for His driven wind
And bend to quench my thirst....

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wanky wind wretching
felon fury bruising
bounty blitzkrieg bleaching
blur biddings bleeding
hoisted hankering hibernated
jumpy jazz cremated

dark dribbles drooled
prescribing pulpy clue
punctured healing pruned

kaleidoscopic chaos cupped
gaunt gifts gulped
moaning mist munched

callous complexities clenched
dusty dregs drenched
    '20:04:09:20:57

Note: Of wanky wind....

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Black shadows fly
in the bleaching air.
Crows quoth their oaths.

Bitter the day that arrives
with no prayers to say.
Those who walk beneath its sway
shiver and ever wary
of that croaking gravity.

Only the bold scatter
the screeching carrion,
throw their arms to the sky
fists shaken and mad of eye.

The bold and unforsaken
forbid,
their defying faith unbowed -
undoubting and awakened....

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The feathers fade midst the beer brown grass
Dark purple midnight black, bleaching to gray
Shadows stretch to touch the cooling heap
Of the raven, still like the trees, silent like the boy, 
Staring…

At the havoc that he had wrought,
Staring at the worlds he had destroyed.

And as he threw the catapult to another planet,
A sea of sorrow washed over his eyes,
So that he did not see where it fell....

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On arrogate life, should one stare so?
Under such gaze, Thanatos peeps thru!
Rained-out vigor streaks pastel of pallor…

Death beckons as the lime does bleed
evanescing color, bleaching to a white
spreading over oak as if Spanish moss
treading, lichen-like, over a tree spent
its tendrils holding in a choking surety
neath a receding eye so dark and worn
yonder-bound already on soul’s destiny…

6/9/22...

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A water colour cloud of blue obscures the scene below,
where pastel bodies testify to a subtle change of hue.
Through gun smoke mist the flags display no different colour shade,
as all across the battlefield the trumpets blue notes fade.
The cerulean sky attires herself with cloak of slate blue tone,
and azure tears of helplessness fall on true blue bleaching bones.

The colours have It Competition
David Wallace...

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Sitting in silence
Trying to be patient
After standing in a hot line
For a hot meal
Instead of playing with hot wheels
With memories of being thrown 
Into a dumpster
To dive for food as a 3 year old
Before they started bleaching produce to kill us 
To protect us from the precious garbage.
 We knew we could get sick from it

Do not poison our food to protect us.

This night in church i wonder
Why must I pray for food?...

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Stillness of morning
Damp and multigreen
from predawn rain
Feathered choir resting from
greeting song of dawn
Artful preening touchups of
scattered random song
as flowers slowly rise and dry
in stately disarray
A soft breeze teases small
new leafed branches
Fresh painted life drips clearly
in new light
So many myriad hues of green
so nakedly truly shown
without blinding bleaching sun
A pre day showing 
rewards an early riser...

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Not too fat is Young Fair Rhoda 
But she is fighting it with soda:
Rhoda not with the screaming width 
Of Next - Door Neighbor Miss Judith
Now it's " Don't ever try Apple,
Let alone twice eat pineapple..."

Something that Seller Margaret
Had begun to nicely regret
And round pace like Cattle Egret
To Rhoda "No more Good Morning!"
Over someone else keep fawning...

"Dark Rhoda wants to be pageant
But no purse for bleaching Reagent"...

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I wondered about
This road sign
It Haunted me
So went a digging
Found some old skeletons
Up near 
Weyba dam
It is
Black in the killing days
Was not the colour
To be
When white spilt from the ships
And stained
This beautiful brown land
Stained the white sand
With the red blood of blacks
I always wondered
As the sun shines
On the coast
Why it is so white
And now I know
It wasn’t by bleaching
But by murdering
The blacks
Down the
Ol’creek road...

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Simple silence stays
Precious plunder pays


Dreamy dimpled day
Succinct sensuous say


Lovely lavish lines
Bubbly bleaching brine


Parade profound pace
Touchy thrilling trace


Falter falling frame
Clever calling came


Naughty naked name
Silly spelling same


Wonder waiting wild
Cheery charming child


Sanguine silence speaks
Living laughter leaks


Dreamy dancer drifts
Sultry solemn sift




Leon a Enriquez
14 September 2018
Singapore...

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they run around looking for patterns
	        those blasted ants should
be happy				            they even have bread to eat
			with their miserable tithes
		of palm tree leaves 
they lamentedly wave
			to the fleeting warmth of a 
			yellow moon
				with eyes like melting
				rotting butter
bleaching the perfect soil
with their ugly mouths
			preaching from their flower
		waiting, wanting to die
	with some nature of a profound grace
	that will never
	ever
	come
...

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Darkness comes around
Seeking brand new grounds


So much of disdain
In reckless refrain


Darkness in shadows
Spreads out to swallow


So much of heavy
In pitch black gravy


Darkness in mad reach
Seeking yet to teach


So much of latching
In tipsy matching


Darkness flavours bleak
Signage spilling tweaks


So much now bleaching
In gloomy twitching


Darkness now astounds
Reaping clustered grounds




Leon Enriquez
06 June 2018
Hamlet Place, ACT...

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