Short Husks Poems

Fate sieves them
Seeds die to live
Husks are burned
Some are eaten raw...

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Lovebird
Fluttering
Wings, husks flying
Chirping, kissing sounds, beak
Biting...

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in caskets of husks
buried in shallow graves
faint pulses are beating -
waiting on the sun
to flower again...

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Garden 
Green, healthy,
Planting, watering, weeding
Vegetables, flowers, seeds, husks,
Pulling, raking, feeding,
Dried, fully formed
Harvest...

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morning sunrise
gold extenuates shadows....
pecan trees

dark husks
still hang 'pon pecan trees....
delicious nuts down      ...

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Corn stalks dance
In abandoned fields
          Like wispy ghosts
    Without their husks
As children revel tirelessly
Midwestern skies sapphire encrusted....

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A large green grootslang with giant tusks
shook down a bunch of red and yellow mollusks
hunted them down
Northeast of Gerogetown
Scaring sweet corn off of their stalks and husks...

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paddy husks flying
in the evening air...
harvest song




© kash poet
==============

Placement: HM; (Nov.2011)

Contest:Any theme/form(12 lines max.)

Sponsor:Brian Strand...

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The time delay 
and the sun's gold... 
secluded itself in the well of God.

If I could snipe a flame from this brightness!
I will lit a fire in the husks of sleep
and light up the night for lovers 
after a thousand years....

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Mere husks remain,
unnaturally strewn,
lying by the dozens
on a red-soaked field.
Once stoutly girded,
masking fiery resolve
underneath unassuming
exteriors, naught but the
faintest hints linger,
sad siren calls to
former greatness.
...

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Light licks it lips round earthbound raindrops
The asphalt snake glimmers and shines
with the jewels of a million stars
The rain dresses me in nature
expelled breath haunts my face
a lost spirit of dying memories
This empty husks that grasps 
and struggles to hold onto
nothingness...

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in the midst of death-
                                  lichens come to life
    (moniku)

this summer morning-

azalea perfume hints

& yellows the lawn

   (hiku)

with buzzard on high
o'er fields prairie dry
walnut ripen in husks
the afternoon turns to dusk

   (quatrain)...

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Stately totems of the proudest tribe,
not as sleek as the evergreen pine...
the blood of the Sioux flows,
the carnage is a terrible loss.

Corps sprawled as harvested corn husks
that grew on prairies beneath huge rocks....
hear the wailing of violated women,
and the loud cry of hungry children....

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The crow rejoiced in the field today.
Husks were popped open with maize showing through.
Crop was up, smiling in her special way.
There was so much corn, what could a young crow do?
He held a hoe down, invited twenty-two.
They danced their claws off; they were heard in hell.
Enough corn to keep them through the winter spell....

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Anticipation. 

Such an extremity, 
Like the letters
I used to write. 

Which are of
no consequence 
Now. 

I had hoped
they'd allow us
at least one 
connection. 

I made an enemy
that day when you 
wore corn husks
In your ears. 

You've already
Forgotten, but
I've remained. 

Longing for 
what should have
Never been touched
or Told....

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The garden you planted is regrowing,
Just like you said it would—
But the desolate husks of last summer’s foliage 
Still stand stark;
Everlasting monuments
Of what once was.

Yet time marches on,
And amongst untouched relics of a time long gone,
Milkweed and hydrangeas
Once again revere—
Flourish
In the warm light of life....

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The poppies grow in fields of corn
Lamenting days gone by.
Once they were soldiers 
Sounding their battle cry;
Now distant memories lie stillborn.

Each poppy a memorial between a
Sea of proud husks bray,
And each corn of scorn 
Ordains the soldiers day;
Once aromatic flowering placenta.

And the generals did it in for them....

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Left tall and dry, lies the pillared maize forsaken.
Barren fields of corn, stand row by row.
When yellow ears have long been gathered, 
a dusty crop has paid it's garnered due.
The dry stalks bend and dangle stiff remains,
and autumn winds return to whip batons and play.
The quiet fields tune harps and violins,
making harmony from husks, with swaying stalk refrains....

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We sit and gaze from in our husks,
and gaze through our delicate masks.
our superficial filter-eyes
divert us from our tasks.

We hide ourselvesinside our heads
and tell our twisted lies.
We lie until it becomes truth,
even in our fractured minds.

What is the truth?
It's What we say!
We're Victors to the end.
The winners tell it as it is,
and every truth they bend....

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Democracy will only die if self inflicted
trapped in the tar pit of people's fear
home of the brave now morally conflicted
why they cling to lies is never clear

roads of tomorrow are lined with choices
roads from yesterday are lined with their husks
around our neck a rope tightened by hidden voices
the light of democracy's morning has darkened to dusk

2/27/17 
words 63
contest What Doesn't Kill Us...

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Faded murmurs soothe new twilight
as a gentle smoke blows around the wind,
mild circles hushed by Virginia maize
along a dampened lane, rainy lane
bringing me back home with comfort,
after a calm storm light and breezy
with the falling of ashen branches,
ruffling the threads of sky with corn husks 
and a tender whisper cradles the farm 
rising like bread of morning,
when all else lays quiet in the twang of sunrise....

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come to me all rats in my granary
I have a feast for you
husks and shells of groundnuts
but after though beating

you live in shelter without renting
eat fresh food without permission
sewerage system you use freely
lay down your belly for caning

Come you rats in my granary
line up and make your statement
Tell me why you deserve no beating

you eat food for my children
then thank me by mixing it with refuse!...

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Frothy exhaust curdles the Lumpkin 
pumpkin
Hard Cider breath exudes from 
every male bumpkin
Screamin kids Crab apples into 
melted taffy dunkin
Uncle Leroy's flabby ass into 
shredded bale sunken
Aunt Polly on the sagging porch 
swing drunken
Cousin Marie on sawdust kitchen 
floor corn husks shuckin
Baby Liza in corn pone crib goat's 
milk from RC botttle suckin
One-eyed Grandpa Moses up at 
Bear Cove spelunkin...

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Above Barley, Clouds Dance Enchantingly. Flooding Glorious Hills In Jubilant Kaleidoscope. Lending Motion, Natural Opulence, Peacefully Quiet.  Ranges Slumber Tranquilly, Undisturbed. Vibrant Wheat Xylan Yellow.    Zetland.







World English Dictionary
xylan ('za?læn)  
—n
biochem a yellow polysaccharide consisting of xylose units:occurs in straw husks and other woody tissue
	
Zet•land
[zet-luh nd]  
noun
former name of Shetland Islands....

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The wind has emptied its spectral graves.
Wingless birds sing.
Raccoons climb through trembling throats.
Cats no longer hunt but howl.
Lights flicker, minds darken,
Hands grow pale in the lowering clime.
Ghost are seeking, but what?
Perhaps they search for the root
of we rootless beings,
that ancient vine
that binds us to the wine of life
while the wind only sings
of lost and empty things,
chaff and husks
in the tempests mouth....

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