Short Fjords Poems

My father is dead

I kneel by gray winter seas

Fjords echo my rage

Grief swoops down from the heavens

Like hawks grabbing prey...

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the wave rolled, moving
 the currents in the heart, dancing
 to the beating drum
 it came to die on your shores
 the salt to your chapped, dark fjords...

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The battle rages, tree branch swords
cardboard boats on Viking Fjords
victory within our grasp
mother calling “time for your nap”


7/24/2021

Flair and Fun Quatrain Contest...

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Listen to poem:

Frothing, frigid fjords
Fling forth fine stippled
Salmon, streaking upstream.
Roe-rich fish, flashing
Fat and fulgent:
Spurred to spawn, to spurt
Then sputter -- spasmodic.
Spectral. Unspared....

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.
             'elle 
     'cross the ocean
   'twuz mine wander

       'round fjords
   'tween each ripple
   'pon the salty wet
'yond mine limitations

    'bout mine think

    'tiz uv hers mine
         ‘member...

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We
haunt
settled
peacefully.
Hunting for faint fjords
in the fathomless duskiness.
Skywalker drawings darting amid the thrilled pine shrubs,
Psyches shaped a hollow chimera, that kept hopper throngs growing and showed acumen.

Written: January 13, 2022

Fibonnaci is a form with: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, syllables each line....

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There are many fjords where the Viking ships came forth.
Those mighty warriors dominated the lands up north.
The fallen in battle would go to meet Odin in Valhalla.
For quite a long time, the Vikings ruled Scandinavia.
Four centuries before Columbus, they arrived in America.
There is a descendent from the Vikings named Harald today.
The great land he rules is known as Norway.
...

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Aurora Borealis creates.
                    Daring escapes.
              Fjords gorgeous!
Halibut is jumping.

                             Ketchikan landscape memorable.
                  Natural opulence.
           Poetically quaint.

                             Rustic serpentine tundra,
                 undulating valleys,
waterfall Xanadu.
                                 Yahweh’s zenith!...

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IT FEELS LIKE

keyboard
deep breath
thought break
dead end

and then…

the words sprint
in blinding
flash lightning
too quick
to comprehend

try to break it down
words of singular 
splashes and
channels of dashes

that one unique line
of something sublime
poetical console
staccatos 
inlets of fjords
announce

the square sum of
nothing



© Kim van Breda—20 December 2015...

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I sometimes think that the oil is good.
For what if it all comes up in a flood.
It rushes in on every shore.
And life in the sea will be no more.

Then if you light a fire. 
It will spread with the wind.
To beaches and fjords.
Like our greatest sin.

It is better to use it for a fellow cause.
In oil wells and oil fields. Powering us.
So that nature has time to swallow it up.
Before ragnarok happens. And we all will be lost....

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Dawn Demure
Dawn December day.
Machine peacefully sleeps.
Slumber banished.
RAF pilot.
Spitfire!
Kept warm, mission time, Norway bound.
Snow, fjords, mountains.
Cockpit, aboard, checks,
rise, feathery clouds.
Recon.
Fine machine, woman.
Precision engine.
Exquisite cameras, spy on Nazi’s Christmas.
Thousand mile trip, freedom.
Gentle hearts, honest loving men.
Tirpitz photos, Whitehall desks.
Experts, delicately place,
five ton Tallboy bombs.
Lancaster love....

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