Short Dormancy Poems

Inactive as bears,
sleeping in a remote cave...
dreaming of grassland.



The theme of the poem is winter....

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Slepan is a lover of sleeping 
Little light without any bug/mite helps
End of moves
End of thoughts
Persona gone....

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Silently slipping away through sleep,

A constant drift into further sea's,

Never reawake.

 

Lying breathlessly,

At peace.

With winds that cleanse

And carry me.

 

When I dream....

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Know
Within the deep dormancy of my mind
Lies the truth
The non-revealing light of love
That shines with focus, yet not outward
Like a spot light
It shows me my love, my fantasy
Know
If my fantasy were to be real
It would be you...

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For now I sleep
As sun is down
My eyes now closed
In dream I frown
For in this dream
No rising sun
Just pure darkness
For everyone
No light for growth
No sparkle bright
It’s scary dark
Without the light
So wake me now
From dormancy
I need the light
For me, to be...

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We mine the soils with our wooden picks
cutting slower than any human eye can see
digging for ancient minerals in pockets of water
to send above through a vascular cambium highway
we won't rest again until dormancy or death



Contest:  rooting for 8 to 5
Sponsor:  nette onclaud 
Jan. 3/2017...

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If your heart's hurt!
Healing always comes 
With folds of silence,
Or with night dormancy 

If your heart's hurt!
Wider your steps,
Maybe from veins of rock 
Or from night tales,
Become the lights green,

Or perhaps from crowded dreams,
Slips the light with 
Grunts heavenly songs 

Written by © Fatima Nusairat...

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Is this another sleepless night
as I lie awake in bed
My husband's sleeping peacefully
while thoughts run through my head

I tell myself that it's all right
but still they enter in
So I'm writing poems in hopes that I
will drift off in the den

I came back to the soup
I'm excited to be there
It worked I'm ready to descend
onto my pillow's flare...

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What happens when there are no words to write?
When the fragility of inspiration eludes you,
And seem to shutter into pieces,
Against the floor of nothingness,
When tears accompanies no emotion,
When pain watermarks scares to almost oblivion,
Times that wind blows unnoticed,
When words escape memories,
A time when lines lie in dormancy,
The pain of a poet arise...

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~blue northern winds
           a frolicking arctic  
                    whistling the blues

~blue skies darken 
          the sun’s eyelid is closed 
                    life dares to dream

~blue bulb tulips
          adamant potential   
                    life given stores
 
 ~blue dormancy
           frozen earthly landscape 
                     fur bearing seals...

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The room,
so filled with
silence as the two
fell on the hush,
silently sleeping and 
holding each other 
forever in their clutch.

Their bodies 
lay in dormancy
as minds then recreate
the very passion tiring 
them that helped 
to satiate.

Within 
the dreams they 
smile. They know just 
where they lay, amidst the arms 
of the one, true love, as their 
bodies rest from play....

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His shadow envokes me as he approaches my arms
My beacon throbs in the realm of his scent
Our hearts merge into a fit of passion
Bodies tremble with the ache of sensuality
The satisfaction of our attainment emits tears
As we conclude our escapade of ardent love making
Fulfilled am I under his erogenous spell
inevitable dormancy awaits me after the episode of pleasure we shared
And our submission ends when we drift off to sleep......

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Winter season is a momentary lapse of nature
A dormancy if you will
That allows the world to rest, almost die
In order to therefore come back with a vengeance

Upon the arrival of the refreshed world
People rejoice, leaving their heated homes
To enter into the great outdoors, welcoming
Not only the green of the earth, the yellows and purples
That now take abundance among the greenery
But to bask in the blue of the new spring skies...

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Winter I bid you adieu
your work is now done
the land is rested
and ready for new life

Slowly you release
your icy grip
and the snows
melt into puddles

Infinitely slowly
the land warms up
promise of new life
in every new bud

Spring only round the corner
soon all ablaze with colour
animals and birds give birth
joyful sights and sounds abound

Winter I bid you adieu
take your rest for now
lie in dormancy for the present
your time here done for this year...

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In a cocoon wrapped in silk,
All that I can be is encased.
Lying there in dormancy, can't get out
Oblivious of all that's outside.
This toxic state has me mesmerized!

Bounded tightly with silken threads,
Stuck in the same old rut;
But something new is taking place,
Patiently forming, growing, shaping.
Should I be surprised at all, in this toxicity?



10 lines

Poetry Contest Deadline: Sunday, January 01, 2017 
12:00:00 AM 

Sponsored by: FJ Thomas...

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Looking out my window this 38 degree morning
I saw that:

The bushes are weighted down
with the moisture;
the droplets on the verge of
morphing into ice;
hunkering against the cold.

The weeds are dead and stiff
with the end of a dry season;
now wet, turned into intensely
deep shades of brown
and ochre.

The tall un-mown grasses
are matted down
by leaves fallen at season's end,
gathering the moisture,
ready to rest from summer's toil
in a quiet and peaceful
dormancy....

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Scrolls raked along
the crevices;
limits of a breath
patched, thick.

Chiseled down the 
rumbling bark,
brimming loops,
cross road nooks of
trembling passion,
scorching rues.

A crumpled hearth
of perpetual dormancy.
Raw upon the
lisping drones of the 
bamboo,
broader than the
clearest black,
an influx- grim, vivid;
cryptic on
morsels of my
slumber, dampened 
ears...

Flashes of detached
voices, intuitions;
monotonous as this
tread-
a lurch; different
yet whole....

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Spring struggles to break winters hold
on its timely season onset.
The latent buds are reluctant
to sprout their protuberances;
robins haw vocal notes of song
while perched on stark swaying branches;
Crocuses spurn stifled tulips
abed for their impotency;
Sluggish hibernates’ hesitate
to waken from their dormancy 
and fair-weather, housebound humans
unwilling to venture outside.
but soon a warm, vernal zephyr
will breathe life into everything
reviving consciousness of spring....

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Within this rooms confidence
I feel no gust of air
Freedom passed by me, hence
Truth be told, I no longer care
The dormancy of a liar’s vacant heart
Bleeds through the silver lining
Some may call this art
I, for one, couldn't bear 
That thought of which they hold
For my sins of all my life, I share
My unfulfilled purpose has many a time been told
So in my dreams I think of thee
With an unparalleled uncertainty
When I wake, I prefer to dree 
The very love that’ll be the death of me...

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