Short Fibers Poems

Forlorn fibers fly
ruby refuse recoiling
morose motors mulch


FALL....

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My words are sacred
Living fibers of my soul
Do not question them

Eileen Manassian Ghali...

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Slight and spry is her

taste in jewellery. I weave

fibers capricious and

bold. Identical we are:

I am turquoise, she is pink....

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my love bled 
across the page
as a fountain pen's ink
bleeds into the fibers 
of linen paper
my heart spilling
it's love for you
in crimson flowing script...

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Healing hands be
light and nimble
As needle is to thread
finger is to thimble
Fibers of white
unwind from spindle
As spark is to flame
Loving grace He doth kindle....

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Mangiferin crammed,
Magnificent fruit king...
Mingled with vitamins,
Minerals and fibers
Makes marvelous milkshakes...
Maintains mental health by
Marring malefic moods......

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torn muscles are weak

separate fibers dangle

seek to grow back strong

 

 

 


(February 7, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)


(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved...

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I sleep on pleasant fibers
With the leaves caressing down
Falling from trees far above
I enjoy my soft hammock

Russell Sivey

Entrant into Nette Onclaud's "HAMMOCK OF SKY IN TANAGA" contest

8/28/2012...

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huge, bulky, giant,
So sheds cotton fibers particles;
Leaves waving unwind;

MIGHTY AUTUMN COTTON WOOD TREE-





11/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
Poem type a” LUNE”...

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Sun,
light fibers
gathered in bundles
that cross
worlds,
fields,
tangled
cracks,
rivers, oceans,
backlands, corners
hit me with light....
How lucky! without him I
would not exist....!
So energized...!...

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Shears, indifferent where the fibers led,
She wielded innocent of dread,
Cutting what her sisters fed.
Slicing each fragile thread,
Thickened puddles spread,
steaming and red,
As he bled,
In bed.
Dead.





Rhymed Nonet...

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And again the clouds they play
For the month is ending,
They open to give the sun a way
Through the fibers bending.

A type of bird I've never seen
Comes gliding by my seat,
Reflecting back into the dream,
The month's been pretty neat....

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A
Soft
Whisper
Tells to your
Captive strangled heart
To reopen the closed curtains
Flowing freely a crystalline manantial of love
Trembling violently inner fibers that were sleeping in an hibernating state










4-14-2016...

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Dole
Killed
Slowly
Wailing soul
With an expiry
That is not perceived with the eyes
But is eroding the deep fibers of thou being
Until thee become stagnant without feeling profound emotions that stir your senses










3-16-2016...

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Pink
Rose
Petals
Withered as
The weeping soul that 
Dries after spill the tears that rinse
The acrimonies that settle down deep inside as
Thorns that pinch the fibers of your being until Are removed, leaving scars forever









3-19-2016...

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. for public domain

Love stories on our hearts rewritten,
imbued on parchment of those we've smitten
where whose love was laid to ruin and waste,

fibers with woeful letters erased
again and again, thin the paper,
til none remains to print one more story....

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Onto the paper, leaks black unforgiving tears 
With every stroke of pain, something magical is displayed
Scars and scratches from an abusive defeat 
Cobbled thoughts sketched in the fibers 
Today, a horrible mess 
Tomorrow, the masterpiece you've been waiting for...

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 So many more have died from ground zero exposure.
Let us never forget!

September 12th 2021

twenty years later
dust, chemicals, fumes, fibers
the body count climbs
we remember gravediggers
who lingered after the fall

9/12/2021...

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what is why as the metaphoric world
spins fibers once organic now plasmatic 

damsels in drag, boots in high-heels 
dancers swimming in tap-tap-tap

bras in search of breasts of real
nipples slip into a safety net

you sip away at your ghost
i toast with two pills and jello...

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Shame,
a shroud,
has fabric
woven from the
dark, anguished threads of
self-recriminations
and of inadequacies.
Caught in its twist, the frail weave on,
constraining themselves in self-loathing.
Unravel fibers of despair. . . Unveil!


For Skat's Any Old Poem #7 Poetry Contest...

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Blank horizons, desolate space
Oblivion in this place
Grey fibers, blank wonder
Losing its luster
Exhausted dreams, taunted hopelessness
Emptiness in this openness 
Ruptured dreams, fractured spindles 
Ideas are hindered 
Stamped with astuteness
Reality refocused, thank goodness...

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French Terry Knit Fabric, 
  I’m comfy overlay-
               fibers of yarn on my pale skin,
               cozy on Autumn days.
      Embroidered silk within, 
                    sleek with burnished and shiny glaze.


Knit Your Fabric Contest
Nette Onclaud
November 11, 2017...

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Somehow, tiny beads of pearly dew 
Fall gently marking ended hours;
My  sighs meander, deep in prayers

Where daylight peals along gardens wide,
And fibers of orchids knot an embrace
Till afterlife’s veil brushes my face.



Eternal Breath Contest of Gail Doyle
by nette onclaud...

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The words.
They fell out on paper.
They were in my head.
Not sure what they said.
I stare...
at them in ink.
Then think.
Indigo seeping
into paper fibers.

It was me...
who wrote them down.
But were they mine?
Did I bollix them up?
Did they land standing up?
In the proper order?
And now.
This is how.
It ends up....

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The threads unravel,
No more shackles
No longer is there a bond

Standing tall,
no longer am I bound;
I hold my head high

Nothing remains
The 'us' has shredded
The fibers left behind

The ties are cut
I burn like a candle 
I continue to shine

It was a glow, an illusion 
That was the confusion
'We' were nothing at all...

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