Short Southbound Poems

Glean cornfield
southbound geese
refuel...

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glean in Cicero
large flock of geese
southbound...

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ducks southbound
on central flyway
hunters wait...

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Southbound geese
wheel over parking lot
decorate car...

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sun's october rays
unfurl molten golden glow
~ geese flying southbound



AP: 3rd place 2022

Posted on May 18, 2020...

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Rich
colors
fly away
Southbound birds too
Lovely November
of lonely skies
pink clouds glide
Sun sinks
rich...

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first snowflakes launching
sweet southbound dreams and longings
~ travel posters call



AP: Honorable Mention 2022

Submitted for contest A NOVEMBER PREMIERE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - November 11, 2017...

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aloft in the sky
this cloudless day
the stream
of southbound planes
x marks the spot
where you stood
a linger inside
my thoughts

a tender touch
in fingered breeze
your breath
upon my flesh

a blush within
a wayward sun
setting to my west...

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August is fading 
lushest blooms kiss a fierce sun
sudden surprise chills

standoff of seasons
spicy fragrance thrills both sides
butterfly bliss hides

skies still berry blue
melancholy wake up call
honking geese southbound

a brightly stained world
all of nature is colors
changing endlessly...

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I had a lover once, just one,
espied through misted panes
from my corner loft, 
above the grocery store.
His lanky gait would pause 
for the Southbound No.3.
and though I wished, 
with all my heart,
he’d lift his head from down,
the passing years have 
have brought no more
than a greying shade of brown....

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September is here
With skies bright and clear.
Summer birds will be southbound.
Cooler breezes near.
School football we cheer.
The young quarterback is downed.

Parents go berserk,
Call player a jerk
For manhandling their loved son.
The ref's not a shirk,
Is good at his work,
Says no infraction was done....

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Her Ship Made It Home

He set sail to her port going southbound  

through choppy sea swells to rarefied ground.

With wind at his back he picked up steam

navigating the channel, eyes a gleam.

Her beacon of light lead his way by rote

as howls of wind whistled to all she wrote.

6x10

connie pachecho

1/25/17...

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Seaward seeking...on a voyage finding LOVE
 Empty hands and heart left me with none to LOSE
But somewhere southbound, the compass left me LOST
 No bearing back or finding that....which I wanted MOST
Rocking through vengeful waves, blinded by the MIST
 A Map of loves failed pursuit... balled up in my FIST
Pulled in wet dripping nets,  with not one FISH...

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Southbound tracks of opportunity with dreams flying by
He pushed on through the hills so that she might survive
gripping tight in all hope, the train rolled on out of sight
with a longing and a brush of abstract strokes she creates their life 
she painted her longing as each soul passed her by
waiting for a return of a man on a cold winters night


Rose Piper 
Painting~"Slow down freight train"...

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Alone on the other end
of a call that just hung up
Turning off his phone as he
reaches to fill a cup

Time again being here
reunited with burdened luck
This moment is no different
getting into the truck

Pulling onto a highway
to avoid a southbound train
Looking only at darkness as
his eyes turn to rain

Life gave him no more
reasoning to be who he knew
Just like the social cliché
ending in fate for two...

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My father left this rocky coast
Upon a southbound brigantine;
To make his fortune, he did boast,
Six months along the Argentine.

A lighthouse lit our lonely cove
For more than fifty years in all.
The beacon of my mother’s love
N’er quenched a night, as I recall.

Long have I scanned the sky;
My sons have come and gone. I cry:
“O, who shall carry on the light
That shone in mother’s eyes, so bright?”...

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I carry my elegant pain,
lost in the middle
from the south of
  American continent...
On the night of my destination,
this pain was once my dream...
I left on a southbound train
and I became beatnik,
then I was a hippie,
believed in flower power...
I don't inhale or smoke...
My drug actually is poetry...
My chic pain is  this,
of time traveler, I carry it
as a youth treasure,
 of a million dollars,
not in exchange, not selling,
this pain,
is my piece of art... !...

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October has swept in, bedazzling the trees
with a special magic as again her spell she weaves.
In and out she waltzes as she touches all their leaves.
Crimson, gold and orange dance with her on the breeze.

Also on the breeze there glide flocks of southbound geese
as the sky becomes at eventide a fantasy -
blue now turning tangerine – beautiful to see!
I pause to savor it and feel my soul at peace.


Oct. 3, 2020
for Julia Ward's A Flock Of Birds Poetry Contest...

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riding in Amtrak
southbound to San Diego
viewing scenic coast

Be with my Mommy sometimes on weekend.
The time for the two of us, when we tend
to act like silly girls.
Dancing, doing some twirls
while singing karaoke songs we shared.

she has been gone for years; but our times together live on, I miss her.


1/22/22    Charlie Hai-Lim-Ku Poetry
                Charles Messina

Used:        How Many Syllables  (5/7/5 - 10/10/6/6/10 - 17)                
                RhymeZone...

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