Short Daub Poems

Sunrise In Afrika

the crimson Ball
torching the dreary dawn
with a daub of light


26th Aug' 2013...

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Each line is like a daub of the brush stroke
Of the Artist painting Grace
And the final adoring beauty
Is the image of your Face

Brenda Elizabeth Rose...

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puppeteer of the clouds
working a spray of gulls
one pecks away the strings
all the others do the same
stigmata daub their wings 
they plummet to the sea
souls draped in white lace
haunting the tips of waves
luna offers a slice of peace...

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FLUTTER BY

The flutter of the butterfly
whispers in the breeze.
Perchance its wafting action
is more than a daub on canvas,
so dark and dank and cold.
It's folly to paint its flight.
it might be happenstance, but
I left my paints at home....

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beak
of the plague mask
    lest I smell
your rotting bodies
    strewn
I smell your crosses
  daub your doors
I smell your corpses
  pile your carts
I smell your fires
  flame your dead
I smell you earth
  and weep for you
    cried moon


...

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mushrooming loam 
amber and red daub the sludge 
with water and glaze. 
stirred by the whispering breeze
sharing their stealthy karma

written: February 18, 2022


A Brian Strand Tanka Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand...

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O hark, the gulls have come to pray

       For this, the start of one new morn

Behold, such virgin days, thus born

              From womb of night on cradled cay

A lemon-drop sun to daub the sky

       And blush this day with kisses, shy

O hark, the gulls have come to pray....

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An old blue uniform 
that hadn't fit in fifty years,
beneath which:
Letters I don't recall sending,
a daub in oils, 
slashed, repaired, and saved.
A note, detention, smoking,
tucked inside
a dictionary, first prize in spelling.
The invitation to the wedding; 
unanswered, unattended.
The will....

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spectrums
       of art
        bring
wonder
and ecstasy
a
fleeting
inwardness...
a heightened
sense
of the infinite..
so distinct
a visual
        chord
yet
out
    of key,
an
    idiosyncratic
act
of freedom
and chance
evolving..
into
a complete daub 
upon
the canvas
of experience...

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I've Limricized..' Haiku
Than Bauk, a time or two.
In verse intent, play scenes.

To prose.' not heavy of line.!
My word..! 'to grasp the time'
Its to do.! Today so seems..

In green of mango groves,
Where marmosets flex toes
Crush berry.. Daub bamboo screen,

To paint a vivid show
my wish for you to know.'
In Balassi stanza keen....

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The flutter of the butterfly
whispers in the breeze.
It flies so energetically
from flower to flower
It's beauty is perfection.
It is a gift of love.

Perchance its wafting action
is more than a daub on canvas,
so dark and dank and cold.
It's folly to paint its flight.
it might be happenstance, but
I left my paints at home.


3/6/2019 The Butterfly Emile Pinet...

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Oh, how I want a job
So no one thinks I'm a slob
Because I don't rob
Too qualified to deck swab
But I'm just a blob
Hitting computer knobs
Taking phone calls, no prob
Makeup on, mascara to daub
Turning key fobs
To interview with snobs
Who don't choose me, sob
Depressed, eat corn cob
My forehead throbs
Where are you God?!
No matter, keep resume's lobbed
Just another in the mob!...

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Radiant beauty abound

Sun beam, pubescent wager, thy face, 
Nourishment takes, golden roseate, 
Tenuring flower, non-daub
Graceful anima, display

The’ streaming into our souls,
Mise eternal, nod love 
Never accord that we will
Birr mioty, universal a qualm

Sprig Eres an arrow that day
Cheshire  I vidi, anearing eyes
Grin giving, es raining a pasted 
Moppet of peri, pecked me a sass
I will always cherish the’ day....

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If I could reach the sky,
I would get you the moon and stars
to drape round your neck and arms
like priceless jewels.

If I could reach the heavens,
I would get you the clouds
to swathe round your body
like silk and fur.

If I could reach the heavens,
I would get you the colours of the rainbow
to daub yourself with 
like ageless make-up.

If I could do all that for you,
I would be your love
and love you to eternity
with no hindrance.....

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A dream for you ...
it spins in the mist of twilight
wending the Milky Way
borne of passions unrealized
and the gilded hems of imagination's veil
dripping from the moon like tears of quicksilver
meandering 'midst the starstreams of dusk and dawn
to daub the sky with gossamer lace
and the hallowed hopes ...
of heaven.






~ 1st Place ~  in the "Brian's Choice M, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor....

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I last-touch
the tiny giggle
of the hand that carelessly lets go
a moment of a horizon-less lifetime.

And she lifts her head
encoppered curly hair
framing the face
that uncle Chagall will want to possess on canvas,
Raphael will woo with the charm of a Reborn man,
Renoir will gently daub in moving light.

I take away the giggle
and delicately arrange a small place
for it to nestle off to sleep
among the most gentle, manly words
I can release from my heart....

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The ‘F’ word floods the floor of my lips in disgust,
everything we built was on sand, 
whether castles or huts, 
whether with bricks, blocks, wattle or daub,
It crashed beneath the strength of one hand,
Or two, upon your breasts,
your bosom beneath another pressed,
squeezing out my memories from your mind,
like oil from its parent nut that’ll never return.
Deceit, like lipsticks upon your lips,
that won’t rub off e’en when French I kiss,
your eyes wide open, your mind with his....

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Were these dreams foretold, or Happenstance
These dulcet Whispers of prophesy
From bereft desert to Dank green soil of rebirth
With you; only a Daub of dust as reminder
That I ever doubted the path to us, the Folly of
Remorse for yesteryear's Wafting redolence
Perchance, the reign of rash impulses
In the limit of foresight, were the Flutters
Of emerging wings, lifting me to hope's
Horizon, and landing in your hands.

1/22/19

Eight word challenge-Bardenesque
Sponsor: John Hamilton...

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