Short Eastward Poems

he was sent eastward
the carnage was horrifying
it was unbearable...

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Oh, sweet eastward wind
Caressing my weary mind
Bring me new desires...

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Today my thoughts do Eastward flow,
And just before the mountains slow
To rest sometimes with you....

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Winter clouds drift eastward

An organdy curtain in afternoon skies


For Brian Strand's Spaces Contest...

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hazy skies above
drifting eastward on the heat
smoke from western fires

written July 20, 2021...

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Eyes eastward
horizon still
pale light 
quivering
above dawn's rim...
Blink twice -- 
a majestic band
wondrous-red
mounts
o'er dewy rooftops
~ dawning
    of a day's creation...

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Shadows lengthen eastward
Undulating and shimmering
Now leaning toward
Dusk fast approaching
Offering no extended hours
Where shadows may linger
Now from nightfall until dawn

written September 6, 2021...

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We three cats of Halloween are
Bearing kibble, we travel so far
Yield and mountain, meow and fountain
Following a witch’s star


Oh…. Moon of wonder, circle so bright
Moon with royal Jack-o-lantern light
Eastward leading, still conceding
Guide us to thy perfect sight...

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the wind howls and whirls
eastward of the pier's fence
anchor chains jangling

May has come around
the thick, surrounding drizzle
continues to rain 

under blazing sun
yesterday's raindrops dried up
the cracks look larger

Written: May 13, 2023...

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Labyrinthine mind jams  along mazes
Searching restlessly for inner fortitude;
Till  amaranth weeds point eastward--
Reams clearing passage  through sunrise
To unveil enlightenment—an epiphany!



For Contest sponsored by Nette Onclaud
Minimalist Form--- dated Oct 16, 2O17...

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Stillness, quiet, cool
Morn where roosters rule
Not a cricket's cheer
Only a Purple Finch near

A clear yellow sun
Up high so very soon
The Mockingbird sings
Joy his lover brings

Gratitude for porch
Early morn not scorch
Eastward facing wait
For day's coming fate_...

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Lissome cloud floats
In the celestial sky
With luxuriant pinion
Now rests
In total repose on the birch hill
A brief sojourn against the firmament
Then moves eastward
To besmirch the soil
In throes of parting





Eight word challenge-6 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
01st June, 2018...

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Seven City Storm

wind blows hot breath on concrete
a downpour on the westside
traffic lights dance on their heads
rivers flow into sewers
storm soon passes on eastward
bus stop umbrella crowds cease
steam lifts slowly from the street

5/16/20

FINISH LINE IN SEVEN' Poetry Contest
Sponsor: nette onclaud...

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Racing the sun across the Great Plain,
Driving headlong into the eastward wind
Splitting wide fields of ripe golden grain,
Racing the sun across the Great Plain
A mile a minute our destination to gain,
Arrow-straight asphalt without a bend
Racing the sun across the Great Plain,
Driving headlong into the eastward wind.

written August 18, 2021...

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Wending her way westward, wafted on whispering wings
   Sailing serenely southward, slithering past secluded scenes
Nudging northward, noticing narrow, noctilucent moonbeams
   Edging effortlessly eastward, entering ecstasy's eerie baleen...

Grace dillied and dallied, then dithered and doodled and dozed
   Could Heaven's Handiwork save her? ~ Neither angels nor seraphs know...

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The okra in the garden is green,
The dew awaits the first sunray.
Spring blesses the world with bliss,
And everthing is lively and gay.
A constant fear of autumn's arrival that  
Would make leaves and flowers decay.
A myriad of rivers rush eastward to the sea,
And flow back not in the west-bound way.
If we don't work hard in youth, regrets 
Would sure climb up our grey hair one day.
( Tran.)...

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From planted seeds, trees have grown.
My hope, regards this scene, is to remind you of home.

Rooted and grounded have the trees come to be.
From different forests, though, are both you and me.

Yet, like one tree that grows and bares many branches:
Rather northward, to the south, eastward, or to the west;

And no matter where fruits from a tree are selected.
I want you to know we're still connected....

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Cherish the glimmer.
Obey and live for the luster
The shimmering glimmering.
Happily EYES were of STARS.
Gleeful legally  GLAD of the shine
No flaws, nothing but bold superiority.
On  the CUSP OF unwavering equal to
PRESCIOUS green emeralds.
Essentially, sensationally, GAYFULLY, GLISTENING,
GLORIOUSLY, GLIDING, dancing on the  face of
The moon with a SMILE  ELOQUENTALLY,  
Elated  edging  ENDLESSLY  EASTWARD...

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On my usual perch
at my computer
I sit alone today
gazing out the window
on a winter world
of numbing brown and gray.

Touches of green
provide slim respite 
from the cloddish chill of day.
Arched wild onion tops
cede to the west wind
in fluttery eastward sway.

Feathered friends flock
to a red metal seed tray
warm in their covering
of myriad bright array
to lend glossy pigment
in a full winged ballet....

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along the Kalapuya river
I lie in my sacred nest
where the great spirit comforts me and 
and song of the ancient ones confess
a simple love of beauty
an ominous rythmn complex
rising from the pounding drums
as this ceramony takes my breath

as smoke plums rise to touch the infinite skies
one Bald Eagle turns eastward to touch 
light of a new day
as I raise my arms in a "V"
and fall to my knees to Pray
...

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A trio of warblers jargon
a madrigal in harmony.
Their polyphony awakens
a slumbering dawn from darkness
while white dewy daffodils, like
saintly daughters of charity,
bow before the paragon sun.
A gentle zephyr diffuses
its collection of fragrances
from the myriad wildflowers
it encountered on its journey
eastward; sojourning, perfuming,
impregnating the morning air
with its sweet, volatile essence....

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On the way to the New Jersey Shore,
make a stop there if you never have before.
Travel eastward along U. S. Route 30,
you will find this place that will be easy to see.
It's located in the town of Hammonton, New Jersey.
In the morning, you will never have fluffier pancakes.
In the evening, they have tender and juicy steaks.
There are very few places that are finer.
Stop and check out the Silver Coin Diner.
...

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A holy, amaranthine light, 
Surely guides the world aright, 
Lo! To distant nations yon, 
The golden flame of faith, 
Carries eastward on! 

Promethean, the fire shines 
And has shone, since olden times:- 
Evangelists in days bygone, 
Stole the sterling flame, 
From Hyperion! 

The flame the lamp-like Pharos bore, 
Lit the ancient Grecian shore, 
But, behold the valiant sight:- 
The golden flame of faith, 
Immortal, stays alight...

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I must travel Eastward

hands among the village people rise at a sunlit moon

along the Soceye river
flourishing fish gather deep

Winter snow melt still brings
a rise to the river's dream 

alone.... along the banks  
a whispering song touches me

the ominous flow cries a rhythm igniting my soul

a spirit fire erupts
and I fall deep beneath the reeds

the Great Spirit cradles me
and all the worry
becomes belief with one single seed...

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April plays a nasty April Fool’s trick
In sunny, unpredictable weather
[but not fast enough to really stick]
Several scattering snow flurries fell.
Fertile, brittle ground is warming up well
And blue skies are more probable than not
A bluish-gray cloud inching eastward fought
With slow-rising river mists laying hard
Before they can come together, I thought, 
April entered with a sharp two-edged sword.

Written April 1, 2022...

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