Short Salvaged Poems

Dreams buried deeply
Recycled sunken treasure
Brackish hope salvaged...

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Listen to poem:

hen pecks at shell grit
crafts eggshell collage, mirage
salvaged from seashells...

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Serious shots sounded
Silence untold
Secrets secondary to sacrifice
Severity of serenity salvaged
Sold to the sadness of a sadistic sabotage
Schedule of a senseless soul....

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My turn over, leafy cheek saw and salvaged
From Autumn's remains— this Winter's surgery,
White stitchery for washed-out color; dead cells...

                  ...nip bright for scars on...

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Treasure hunting and antique jewels
Salvaged shipwrecks where King Titan rules
X marks the spot on Blackbeards’,
 gold in the sand
How far will you  go, and what will it cost
….when all is lost...

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Now that 
we’ve processed 
the whales 
on their gurney
and salvaged 
some profit 
from rainforest trees,
maybe it’s 
time we stab 
forks in our ice cream,
turn cones 
of attrition on you & me....

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The broken wings of
an emperor dragonfly.
Surprise feast for ants.

Fallen from his dreams
reached realities, 
now working harder.

with shattered love life, 
she took human services, 
many lives salvaged....

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Wrecked on an island - alone - I eat
pineapples and coconut meat.
Though salvaged were paper and
ink, this is still my plight:
Who’s ever going 
to read the poems
and stories 
that I
write?


Inspired by Linda Marie's Contest...

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Once ravaged, souls salvaged
haunt savaged:
nostalgic for magic
in tragic
dreams psychotic, script agnostic
by despotic
lies chivalrous (shed fibrous
force frivolous)
to begin, my chagrin.
Our coffin
tailspin
plans covertly
to pervert
or convert....

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Pleiades, Please! Contest
Sponsor:  Kim Merryman

SURVIVOR

Soldier inside her war
Sacrificed all her pride
Satisfied with her past
Salvaged from the shipwreck
Stable personified
Savoring the journey
Succeeded optimist

Written By: Laura Urbaniak
Date: November 16, 2015...

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Surrounded by dry prairie grass

Amidst a sea of broken glass

Like metal soldiers dressed in rust

V-8's wear vests of orange dust

And I, when gazing at them there

Get goose bumps raising every hair

Each time, because I swear I see

Dead headlights staring back at me...

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My hope must be managed. 

As my vision is salvaged. 

All that is left is what exists. 

And my delusions of happiness exit. 

Ripples of tear. 

That used to strike fear. 

But now the voiceless sounds are slim.

And I am taunted with a dim-

Treasure that I must rebury. 

That I will forget in a hurry....

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The screen door
Of the lakeside cabin
Is carved with slices
The size of claws
From the jumping family dog
Of long ago

From which fish flies skim through
The moonlit din
Thinning
Themselves
Into those slots

Dropped
Like silver coins
Into the lamp light
Of the cabin

Hoping it’s enough
To re-start the cuckoo clock
Left for dead
On my old man’s wall....

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If the flowers wilt in my garden turned fallow
I would preserve one, the one you love the most
In my wasteland hope would again bloom
The salvaged splendor would portray my longing  
When the flower would allure you with its scent
It’s me you’d know.

~~~~~~~~~~~

November 12, 2022
Contest : Bitesize Poem No. 55
Sponsored by : Line Gauthier...

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Pernicious weapons shall not devastate
An unvanquishable nation, an indestructible state
Lust for blood rips thousands’ bodies apart
Each slaughtered by a master of slaying art
Salvaged from inhumanity of humankind
They rise to Heaven for eternal peace of mind
Into the air, their invincible spirits float
“Never give up”, with their blood they wrote
Eternity will witness the victory we await...

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Overpowered by the vicissitudes of life,
The soul can be broken down and beaten
Like a sheaf of wheat at the threshing,
Where the chaff is tossed to the winds.
The good salvaged like grains of wheat,
Leavened and turned into sustenance,
Feeds a temporal home for a whole being
Who wanders through the fallow fields,
After the harvest and longs for eternity.

Written October 13, 2022...

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Thoracic clouds stream
Healthy with motion
In wisps of whipped cream
Slinging dew potion

Lifting flower face
Open to receive
Veritas of grace 
Exultant to heave

Wilted decays past
Insolvent in debt
Letting fortune last
Longer than regret

Salvaged from bounties
Across the divide
Valued in counties
Ever to provide

Legacies of truth
In churning reason
Fetching hidden youth
Each passing season....

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Bound by your presence
A torture to erase,
You have taken, 
a piece of my existance
That cannot be salvaged.

In this cold winters night
Numbness, crys me to sleep.
Dont wake me from, this slumber
For its my only, peace.

A silent cry, I weep.
A fallen tear, that speaks.
A lonely heart, that mourns
Lingers in my speech.

Im not sober in existence
But transparent, in my flesh.
A abandoned spirit,
Now occupies, my emptiness....

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Calling all tuners!
It’s time to convene
To evaluate Trump and
His “fine-tuned machine.”

That’s the claim that he’s making
But most seem to feel
His machine might be missing
A cog or a wheel…

Or a lot more than that.
It just makes the blood boil
And to fix things, dear tuners,
You’ll need more than oil.

So get started right now
And if we are in luck,
This machine can be salvaged
Before we’re all…..stuck!...

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Salvaged trinkets from less mindful times,
doodads and trifles - mainly yours.
Electrical dinosaurs, 
wrapped in wires and plugs – mine.

Not much furniture: particle board,
cheap impulsive clutter.

Browsers turn over knickknacks,
hope for an overlooked value;
we have none.

We have this jetsam, and this, and this
and that.

Treasures in-between bric-a-brac 
and thingamajigs -
almost priceless, almost worthless....

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Recollecting
I cherish the flower
I salvaged 
From the table
That night

The flow of wine
Gentle music
Romance
The two of us
Holding hands

How could I 
Have known
You'd be gone
That tragedy 
Would strike

On the phone
You talked 
To me of love
Driving home 
That night

Now I'm to blame
We broke the law
For love
You having 
Lost your life

A lone
Treasured flower
I cling to 
Now I'll never
Be your wife...

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She came aboard my sinking ship
a death blow to the bow,
attempts to bail and keep afloat
this mariners tattered sails.

Plot a new course and navigate
in storms and angry seas,
this vessel lists in the swells
life plundered by piracy.

Now this new maidens charge
is to steer starboard side,
for a new sheltered port 
with rising tides.

This once scuttled ship
ill winds cast adrift,
is now tacking leeward
this sailors gift!...

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A Myriad of loving voices echo through my memories 
Ghosts of those who touched my soul
And gifted me their legacies
Along the way there has been reckless peril on my stormy seas
There was but one who Salvaged me 
Who saved me from my misery 
Anchored me and kept me safe
and now at last I get to taste 
The comfort of a warm embrace 
For now I live without disgrace 





September 30th 2019
Story of my life contest
Sponsor : Silent One...

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Bound by your presence
A torture to erase,
You have taken, 
a piece of my existance
That cannot be salvaged.

In this cold winters night
Numbness, crys me to sleep.
Dont wake me from, this slumber
For its my only, peace.

A silent cry, I weep.
A fallen tear, that speaks.
A lonely heart, that mourns
Lingers in my speech.

Im not sober in existence
But transparent, in my flesh.
A abandoned spirit,
Now occupies, my emptiness.

contest. Greatly missed
Posted 6/6/2013...

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Immaculate young virgin,
dressed in colorful flowers –
innocence is her power,
purity are her vows.

Immersed in flowers’ scent,
She is on the beauty trend.
Life is her vigor –
the spirit is her claim.

Every flower has its beauty,
every life its sense;
so even decay serves its aim,
but only pure spirit, life eternal proclaims.

She thinks, why spoil anything,
if I cannot reverse defiling.
I always can fall down,
but only in trust of God, I will be salvaged....

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