Short Motes Poems

A
speckle
of dust motes-
dancing in the
sun....

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Dust motes spiral round,
Filling attic sunlight's rays
Try not to disturb...

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An old bamboo broom,
stirs up dust motes and trouble–
The past never rest!...

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radiant color
caressing the empty pews
silent dust motes drift

...

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Oh little motes of dust
Dancing in the sun
How merrily you chase
Until the day is done...

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 once motes on the leaf
now creepy caterpillars
soon flying colors ...

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inspired by contest theme

RAINBOWED SHADOWS

A
speckle
of dust motes-
dancing in the
sun....

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Knights, horses, shields, swords
Battle rams, motes, bridges, horns-
Catapults tower

For Caleb and his Lego Wars...

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gnats, hovering in a 
tear drop, battle dust motes for
room.  a peaceful wind
separates them.  i should be
glad with my personal space....

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Dust
drifting
coating sills
forlorn floating
motes

lost
lonely
abandoned
the empty room
sighs




contest: TURN ON THE LANTERNE

Margaret Foster Sept. 2011...

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Quickly, dear scientists!
quest after their secrets!
Quench curious scholars'
queries before these motes,
quarrelsome particles,
quietly die in the
quantum cosmos beyond.

a "Q" pleiades...

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Heart spiritual
Emotes Gods love pulsation
Altar ovoidal
Reshaping each vibration
Taming tempests toroidal

17-May-2021

Tankacrostic Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich...

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weeping, I swept you away
tears enough to raise our roof 
shattered thoughts were often shared 
dust motes dancing in the light,
willing it to be true
visions of other times not remembered 
only felt, only, only
a glance, you remember
oh! say that you do...

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Though Time has dwindled me to motes,
My dust remains in sunset’s light—
A pattern faintly forms and floats
Discernible before your sight.

Indefinite and vague, yet there,
A wisp of what I was persists
Split-second long upon bright air—
Then vanishes in violet mist....

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This plume of mortal breath—
mere puffs of silver smoke
beneath a vast, bespangled sky.
The moon, close and looming,
sheds eerie light in a lustrous beam, 
while motes of delicate stardust,
like specks of a thousand dreams,
dance in its lucent path 
to eternity....

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Cobwebs haunt the corners
sun dancing in their glory
dust motes float, fairy like,
along the edges of time.

Voices linger in a moment
playing un-tuned memories
fingers drum an old arm chair
counting cadence, living the dream.


©10/7/2019

LIVING THE DREAM Poetry Contest
Line Gauthier sponsor...

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Ripped into tiny bits and pieces,
My world coming apart at its creases.

They’re swept away in a single gust,
Like miniscule feathery motes of dust.

Out of sight they float away,
As I watch and wish and hope and pray.

Gone forever those tiny bits and pieces,
Bid them farewell as you release them....

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you could be my best kept secret 
the type of secret i'd keep in a mason jar 
sitting on my windowsill 
sunlight shining through the darkest parts of you 

and as dust motes collect and float midair
i'll be there
with a gentle hand, ready to wipe off the dirt
like the sadness i wish i could relieve of you...

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I never open that dusty box of memory,
it's just another box of clutter
left stored amongst other boxes of clutter
in an attic with the door shut tight.

There is never a time quite right
to fling open the mind's dark shutter,
let dust motes flit and flutter,
put yesterday pains into the day's new treasury...

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...inspired by October Tune by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

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I hope there’s life after death
A soul that exists with our last breath -
Out of body steps

It would be a shame to just die
To become small dust motes in the light -
No eternal life

I don’t know what death will bring
But nothing more is terrifying -
I cling to faith’s wings


1/14/11
Susan Burch
For "Life and Death...And Beyond" Contest...

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...inspired by October Tune by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

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...inspired by 'October Tune' by Joseph Brodsky


A shelf reveals sepia-toned pictures,
floorboards groan with memories 
of ages past and old men creaking,
shadows flicker lightly on the wall.

Hours flow as lava creeps, 
and scattered letters lie forgotten,
dust motes float, their orbits spinning,
shifted by the ghosts of yesteryear....

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The light is flooding in
Spinning whirling dots
Dust motes land soft on my skin
Their glory makes me glow
Spinning whirling dots
The light outlines my thoughts
Their glory makes me glow
Like transcendent snow
The light outlines my thoughts
Dust motes land soft on my skin
Like transcendent snow
The light is flooding in
...

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Ivory-clad finger carves a path;
signs of neglect incur her wrath.
Minuscule motes swirl aloft;
lungs are clogged as hands waft.
Blanket covers all
on floor and wall.
Was just fine,
this shrine:
mine.

------------------------------------------

March 2017

For the "Dust" contest sponsored by Shadow Hamilton - Ninth Place....

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