Short Effigies Poems

Am bathing!

Collecting delightful effigies
from great heights imposing joy   
keeping lathered many notions.

Only paradise quietly relaxes somehow 
the unconditional, variant ways, 
xenial yang zygomas....

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These shadows fall
  stretching out inch by inch
  tracing the sun movements
mid-morning grays 
 cast below tall oaks 
 and sugar maples
where whispers haunt the ground
 silent effigies of images lost
 faded into shadows
memories that walk
 in forgotten times....

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I sing songs to memories.
Some tunes triumphant,
like that of the pirate king.
Others be useless to bear.
Poems are effigies,
from reductions and shadows.

But sometimes the hand
is blessed by miracle.
And the verse more
perfect, proper, and true -
than any of you. 
Far more true than the sun.
Even more true than death.
That poem moves the world....

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. . . I stoned the lord of death to death
     we lye, now, side by side

as

effigies of who we tried to be
among countless 
revolutions
among countless 
massacres

evaporating into mixtures
of all who passed 
that day, united

beyond soils of new shoots
I, a deserter
I, a warrior 
I, a beggar
I, a zealot

with the lamb
gathering stones . . . 

...

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TRANSIENT
 made visible
in the eponymous
to
 first appear
a
point a
in
linear perspective
 relief
with expressive
intensity

a breath
a downcast gaze
with furrowed brow
a presence
  of
the
otherwise
as
realism
as
 is heightened
 by the
remarkable

facilitated
 articulated
so processional
  readily available
talismanic
effigies
of imagination
 realised
by
desire...

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Some are clearly Buddhist
while others are painted egos,
like Catholic effigies.

Species preach
their own cyclical creed;
melodies as pretty
as a Sufi poem
or gritstone in the zealot's caw.

It is the reverberation
of light and sound
that we recognize,
the feathered mantra's,
Psalms for the solar plexus.

Then there are the faithless calls
of mockingbirds -

there's always a 'then'....

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Creative musing enthralls her psyche,
minute thoughts dance before her eyes,
waiting to be written before they
go astray within the confines of the mind
where cobwebbed effigies shadow her 
enlightenment.

Gestation occurs, words labor to be born,
one minute adhering to the womb of her intellect,
the next forcing their way through her artistic
birth canal shouting to be heard
and shared by others who utter joy at the
rebirth....

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>b>and this bizarre possibility
what does the future present to us?
we can break calendars,
I thought.
shedding skin like snakes,
we can shine dark
lighting up the chromosomes that we are.
we can create our avatars,
surpass ourselves,
become the effigies that will replace us
containing the courage we lost
when we shamefully weaken,
when we definitely walked away
of what we could become
when we accept to be
merely the humans we are...

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The storm raged around me 
the prison of thunder and rain
keeping me static
never moving on
as the lightning crashed inside my mind
ceaseless recollections back in time
repeating echoes of pain
no place to turn
nowhere to go
no place to call home
there is no escaping thoughts trapped in the mind
flashing effigies of memory
struck by time into imaginations of fear
and like a babe in the dark
I cry alone, always alone




© JG Farmer 2017
Form: Free Verse...

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Quail's egg high heels thick ginger hair
Diamonds  and  sapphires brides smile
Set the doves free group photo ceremony
Pretty  freckles  rice powder  gold brocade
Long green satin  dresses  latin speeches
Gold chained effigies omens bells  tassles
Tiered powdered flower cake dessert buffet
Gorgeous  new shiny  spectacular  limosine
Fiery  nostrils snorting  Black silk and pearls
Wooly dogs  wooden faces  wreath of flowers 
Shaved head Myrtle and laurel arch Rosebuds...

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I do not, amongst the dregs of my cups,
Consider you worthy to be the theme 
For my untutored scribblings.
There, Madame, there: I put you 
In your place, amongst the detritus 
Of my life, the forgotten effigies of life, 
As she should be lived.
Yet, you do not acquiesce to my intentions,
And re-emerge into my consciousness
To disturb and argue for attention and 
Writings.
I am weak, and accede to your importuning
With versification to placate your demands, 
To show my love....

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Darest V.C. –
Did not we notice their appearance?
Did not we hear the elders speak?

Darest V.C. –
We saw their assorted trumpets
With assorted chameleon voices they came;

Some: mere relics of the ancient tree;
Some: mere effigies of the orient tree;
Some: mere voices of the occident tree;

From far off the vendors spoke
 – Performing rustic rites in city shrines! –

Darest V.C. –
Then spoke the vendors to the heavy ears of the gods:
“Let the birds to the communal nest again.”...

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