Short Chinks Poems

The game we adore
Finding chinks in her amore….
In love who keeps score...

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   Arms locked, Strength in Unity ~
 
    Chinks in the armor of disharmony
...

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No chinks in her armor
Winter blast can’t harm her
She’s an online farmer


By Robb A. Kopp...

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a pomegranate’s
split vulnerability –
chinks in the armour

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an autumn sunrise –
a bird’s melodious song
breaks the morning hush 

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September memos –
sporadic lightning scribbles
on congested clouds

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...

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The air hung heavily
depressed by the golden fall
of the sugar maples leaves
ripe with the sweet smell of Ida Red apples.

Rain-washed the breeze blew
through the clapboard’s chinks
into the closeted rooms of man.

Rabbits, raccoons and deer forage
amongst the autumn crops of chard and kale.

All of creation
prepares
for the long night....

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heart beats so fast
every time I see you
every time I feel you 
tripping over little chinks
there I see above
a blue eyed angel
sending shivers over me
a single touch to my hand
leaving me breath-taken
walking on clouds I am
with a blue eyed angel 
to guide my way 
at the end of this
I'm left with my blue eyed angel 
leaving my heart beating so fast...

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You are my warrior.
The fighter, my own.
Let me be your armour,
And never outgrown.

I cry for you, warrior,
Or one day I might.
If you, gentle lover,
Are called up to fight.

For you would be taken,
With no time to think.
And see in your armour
The slightest of chinks.

A chink which could open
The door for just one
Arrow, or spear...
Or kiss from a gun....

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Hearing the waters
Translucent lavender flow
Imagination
Enriched blind, senses kick in
Silence abounds, clothes in fall

Naked to bare dip
Porcelain to porcelain
Glass of champagne chinks
Lapping ripples in caress
Submerged delights allure me

Patiently I wait
Her cue, for me to approach
Encroach, I go through
Eyes, eye, tanned undulations
When said bubbles dissipate...

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He died with his money on;
In soft gardens where wealth
Is spent on stone reminders
For rotting bodies, he lies.

The elm and cedar bend with winds
Over nature's debt delayed.
A weathered angel stands
Leaning cold benediction.

Her outstretched hand
Has missing fingers.
Her pensive smile
Is wry with chinks.

Near his grave she daily wears away--
Dumb wonder to the children
Who gave her a necklace
Of green leaves....

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MY NEPHEW HAS A PROBLEM,
THAT REALLY TAKES ME BACK.
HE HATES PEOPLE FOR THEIR COLOUR,
ESPECIALLY IF THERE BLACK. 

HE'S TOLD ME TIME AND TIME AGAIN,
ABOUT HIS SLANTED VIEWS. 
HE HATES PEOPLE IN THE GHETTOS,
NiIGGERS, CHINKS AND JEWS. 

THIS ATTITUDE HE HAS,
REALLY HAS TO STOP.
BECAUSE THE BIGGEST PROBLEM IS,
MY NEPHEW IS A COP.

Cal Bambi "The word artist" ©riginal - 1987
       I paint pictures with words.

           calbambi@gmail.com...

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Mini malls copper distortion
Forgotten parking lot meters
Store front greeters grimace
The straight narrow beaks to blend
Except when starlight offends wanton monkey binge

Give me bling to amend my shine
Never resigned but to revv up these hips
And feature the status rings of neighboring chinks
Chaste you never bought my fool

I was still scrubbing service
With the Lafayette oyster muddle
While we huddled from our body heat
Blocking out the mutual perception...

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He pulled out a chair for her 
as they took their seats by the window.
Sunlight was twinkling through
the chinks of a partially drawn blind,
catching the vivid deep redness of her hair, 
and, as she moved to one side, it caught
the sharp blue twinkle in her eyes.
They didn't speak...
for the moment speech was unnecessary.
He took her hand from across the table
and they smiled, happy in the knowledge
that they would always share 
a deep and abiding love....

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The mistral cold wind blew incessantly wild,
Winding in the streets, its glacial currents in and around
The apartment blocks where all frosted windows
Were tightly secure.  Still the bleak wintry chill entered
From tiny ruptured chinks and spread inside
Annihilating the miserly heat emitted 
By old cranky air conditioners and gas heaters.
Occasional bursts of strong wind blew
Some soft snow up like winnowed chaff.
One hopes the homeless found some place to rest....

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He pulled out a chair for her 

as they took their seats by the window.

Sunlight was twinkling through

the chinks of a partially drawn blind,

catching the vivid deep redness of her hair, 

and, as she moved to one side, it caught

the sharp blue twinkle in her eyes.

They didn't speak...

for the moment speech was unnecessary.

He took her hand from across the table

and they smiled, happy in the knowledge

that they would always share 

a deep and abiding love....

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