Short Grainy Poems

Long berries droop high
Above the ditch made sweet with
Grainy edibles....

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Gilded waves of sand,
Sand-mist blowing with the wind;
Dunes of grainy swells....

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the grainy half dusk
when the sun gives her last wink
hours spent in thought 
to leave the safe sanctity
this lonely little hovel...

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Footprints
In grainy sand
Mute witness of the walk
Along the beach shore holding hands
In dreams










Nayda Ivette
11-5-2015...

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Dressed crab with bread crumb egg
Scallops with almonds
Sour cream mash & fennel sauce
Grainy mustard edge
Buttered risotto
Washed down with
Beers!...

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It is not made of
Solid stone or grainy sand
Flesh and blood is love.


(January 10, 2011  Wausau, Wisconsin)

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

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Life
    is a window
an opportunity
    a picture 
of beauty,
flung open
for all to see
profound
complex,yes
with twists
and turns,
never flawless
but speckled,
grainy
a gossamer..
here today
where?
       ...tomorrow...

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Memories rest,
Flowerterrible, in beds of summer
Soils. Each petal a
Struggle of colour
Against grainy backbeats;
Come Autumn, the
Omnipotent spring goddess
Takes to crossing sidewalks.


"Flowerterrible"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith...

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Sitting on the beach
On a grainy bed of sand,
The warm breeze whispers.
*
The warm breeze whispers
In a soft current of air,
Off the blue water.
*
Off the blue water
Nature’s reflections reflect,
The beauty of peace....

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Death ingrained on my lifeless sandy soul
Grinding through my grainy veins
No heart, no love inside

Russell Sivey

Entrant into Chris D. Aechtner's "Kooky and Krazily Kimotastic Kimotherapy" contest

Date Created: 12/17/2011...

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Actually a rondolet

Grainy photos
On milk cartons of missing kids
Grainy photos
In the hopes that somebody knows
Where they are now and who they're with
Parents prayers enclosed within
Grainy photos


2/20/12
Received 2nd place in PD's poem of the week contest...

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taste
toasty
cinnamon
easy to spread
peanut butter toast
delighting 
happy
tongue


smell
fragrance
cinnamon
salivating
anticipation
wonderful
joyous 
me


touch
gritty
cinnamon 
coarse and grainy 
beach sand memory
pour-able
grainy 
spice...

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In our minds, they are giants
  those heroes of yesteryear
presidents, generals, boxing champs
  O, how we stood and cheered

We view them now on grainy film
  the cruelest shock do we receive
These puny men our eyes deceived
  No more in them can we believe...

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Sugar skin 
is what he said, 
is it true?
She believed either way...

Sun boils  
and radiates
sweats to the earth 
then beads form and seperate
on her skin
eventually
evaporates
turns to the smell of a sweet
grainy substance
that he breathes in,
sugar skin...

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Their loving cup sits on a shelf
     stained by the dust gathered there
   Next to a grainy photo of the chair
     where he first styled her hair

   Tears trickle 'cross the windshield
     their first and last car
   Lips melting on a screeching curve
     intersecting the moon and the stars...

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That satanic streak
of tireless undressing
of a hapless monarch.

Wings were gone. Cannot fly
across the tree 
of hypocricy.

A footmat for the suicidal jump
from the elegant hierarchy
to grainy lies.

Why are you turning ungreen ?
You will dig up the temple
without god ?



Satish Verma...

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The cresting sea set beneath the glowing moon
Gave way to many who set there to swoon
Reflective waters warm up this June
The night is set for love

The grainy sand is the bed on which they will lie
Their blanket remains the moon adorned sky
The surf is the sound to drown away cries
As they gaze at the beauty above...

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re-post inspired by Nette contest

From grainy graduations of dark chaos
multiple emotions leap out and erupt
from the unconscious mind.Angst in
moody blue,beauty of random gestures.
Perversity facing up to life,a lyrical dream
a panorama of varied shapes balanced in
space,shadowing  floor to ceilng with
mobile images in silhouette....

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Dear Auntie, play with me now and let’s ignite,

With a plucking of guitar strings, the hours incite

A score of lyrics jiggling as my thrills excite;

Wondering how those grainy sounds can take flight

That a baby like me needs to make do-re-mi right!



Personal Memories--Monorhyme Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo  Picture#2
Mar 19, 2016...

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I don’t recognize myself;
this is not uncommon,
but he seems to me like a pale root
dragged-up to be exposed to sooty clouds;
one raw and unearthed by quarrying shadows.
A grainy tinge shades vacant eyes.
In the distance, tenement towers -
grey tusks in a monochrome sky.
A callus of light embalms a sallow horizon,
revealing just enough of the child
to spook the dead....

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Drowning in foolish beliefs;
Pixilated portraits falling off
Corroded walls;
Blank canvases pervaded by
Grainy brush strokes,
Billowing amidst scattered flickers of
Crumbling structures,
Ambling in blighted stillness.
Venturing to find equilibrium in
This cryptic world,
Stranded and abandoned,
Layered upon a
Pillar of empiric darkness,
Glazed in meaningless semantics....

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I don’t recognize myself;
this is not uncommon,
but he seems to me
like a white root 
suddenly exposed to sooty clouds;
a tendril unearthed
by quarrying shadows. 
A grainy tinge shades vacant eyes.
In the distance, tenement towers - 
grey tusks in a monochrome sky.
A callus of light is seen in the distance
it reveals just enough of him
to spook the dead....

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Monstrous
gruesome
hideous
odious
nefarious
ugly 


yet


imperious

            brainy
            grainy
            strainy
            cranny

and

            snooty
            about 
            petty booty


passionate
in dark
quite stark
shameless
deceptive
grave
terrible


she is screw brained and gets in brain.


MPD-Multiple Personality Disorder...

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I feel I need to escape life sometimes.

Get caught on some
black and white, grainy film,
as I am driving into the unknown,
listening to records.

Sitting in pubs,
drinking whisky,
hanging around with 
Lee Marvin’s sons.

Taking pictures of elusive moments.
Writing, acting, laughing, inhaling.

Living.
Like a bad seed.

The life I would never have.

On someone’s dusted Super 8
...

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From out the copse of gnarling trees,
As nature blinked a rapid eye,
The raven lashes took to flight
Tumultuous in the darkened sky;
And roaring as their flock dispersed,
Peppered shot on grainy sheet,
Fluttered, cawed and squawked a din
With beaded eyes and wings to beat.
And then, as if by some decree,
Recited in the twilight reign,
All was like they’d never been
When nature closed an eye again....

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