Short Casement Poems

The shadows darkly lengthened

From the casement to the door

As nightfall was descending

We slow danced across the floor

Wish night would last forever

In remembrance of our love

Our engagement to treasure



Finish line in seven
Nette Onclaud 
Number. 3
5/17/20...

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This casement can be a delay 
I can see a reflection faraway
But I will never cease to pray
Until the best days obey

Now I can fly with my wings 
Despite all that clings 
I love my inner joy that sings
Keep moving in grace of springs 

I ain't capable of living in the mix 
Betwixt the less and the nix
Now growing up among the cliques 
Is a threat that energize my fix...

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Imperceptible
              footsteps
in curious 
               shadows,
buildings
             drizzled-wet,
smoked blackened
casement spider-
                         webbed
bedeck
        the worn-out windows:
dust&voices
         in empty streets,
vagueness
banality all around-
a transient
nocturnal breeze
surrounds
the dying
             diadem
relic of the once
opulent
           rich...

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Homes at the edge of a jungle
must be built on stilts
or the dead will bubble up
through the floor when the rains come.

That is why, when the python
eased its way through a wire casement
above my head
as I sat on the toilet.
I was not that surprised.

I knew it would enter the house
dragging with it a belly full of death.

Pulling my pants up, snatching up the cat,
I ran smiling toward the many deaths
yet to come....

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off hours,

quiet heartbeat,
soft breathy moisture,

deep bed warmth,
a cold creased topcase,

quiet dark stillness,
with metronome broken,

carpet closeness,
around casement shadows,

faucet spilled,
in heart’s blood offered,

stretched across,
my low light limping,

dew claw shattered,
a morn’ alarmed,

apparition shifted,
in sunray sorted,

self same dentrifice,
snorted crimpons,

monotonous,
silver sharpened,

off I go....

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Just sitting by the casement looking close      
at rain that makes this day all gray and cold.  
It beats upon the trees nearby and those         
that line the way where newer growth is bold  
Sounds play upon tin chimney pipe ten fold      
a tune that comforts me in my soft seat.           
This useless stove is something I give scold,      
without a care to generate much heat.              
A lazy quiet day for me that can’t be beat.        
 7-13-18...

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Pure poetry opened this magic door
Opening new vistas of ILLUSION
Enchanting the dreams and golden thoughts	
Travelling from silence into words
Riddled shadows of this palace

Yearning for immortal INFUSION
Planets, paths, abyss, stars
A casement where moss EVENTUALLY grows
Leaving an entangled impression
A mind’s CREATIVITY flows
Climbing mood motionless in memory
Ever challenging the INEVITABLE

By-Tahera Mannan
For Linda Marie’s, Poetry Palace contest...

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