Short Spindles Poems

weaver’s 
spindle fulls the cloth
teasel



Note: Scottish thistles were once used by weavers as spindles....

Read More

old bookshelves dwindle
        one page holds all ~ big swindle 
                 new hardback kindle


Sponsored by: Kai Michael Neumann 
Bookshop Poetry Contest
10/3/2021
Syllable counter PS 5/7/5...

Read More

drove wife to doctor
counting wheelchair ramp spindles
~waiting for Godot






7/10/2020

My wife smiled at this one.  Or was it a smirk?

Waiting for Godot is a play by Samuel Beckett...

Read More

A stealthy visitor to the top of the room,
A silent mover,

Black spindles from a oval orb,
Make eight comfortable legs to the bed,

Web chandeliers hang around it,
Holding the remains of previous lovers,...

Read More

To the ice, you will not succumb.
Formations of ice crystals
Short furry spindles.

For you to form
It can no longer be warm,

For You to emerge 
The surface must be still without a surge.

Your beauty will show,
So others will know,

A beautiful flower you have become,...

Read More

Blank horizons, desolate space
Oblivion in this place
Grey fibers, blank wonder
Losing its luster
Exhausted dreams, taunted hopelessness
Emptiness in this openness 
Ruptured dreams, fractured spindles 
Ideas are hindered 
Stamped with astuteness
Reality refocused, thank goodness...

Read More

D ug it out from under the stairs,
I  knew it would be useful someday.
S aving it I was for future repairs,
C huffed I never threw it away.
A ll in good order as good as new,
R atchets and spindles all spinning.
D amned if I know what it used to do,
E minently too good for binning.
D on't care what the missus might say,
...........I'm keeping this sucker for a rainy day....

Read More

Porcelain peacocks strut in starlit shower,
drifting as clouds on an emerald lawn.
Black Narcissus spindles in oxblood flower
in teeming beds before the coming dawn
of floating white as night would then be gone,

its smoky quills of porcupines receding
to a memory as effervescing
rays of morning glow would begin, preceding
butter sun with cumulus as dressing
in an azure sky and daylight's blessing....

Read More

Can anything be better
then a pair
of plastic pink Flamingos?

necks slinking gracefully
as a swan
glides upon calm waters.

Steel spindles
established firmly in soft soil:

          No food
          No care
          No toil

so self -sufficient.

And should I mention
the beauty
they display
until incessant sun rays
begin to fade
pink bodies away

Can anything be worse
then a washed out pink Flamingo?...

Read More

Know that this purr-ing cat
will probably eat my face
how many wings are stored
how many insect spindles
how many bugged ladies
too little buttered flies
not a bad word for the cloud
drizzle doesn't frazzle
A bed without an azzled
cursed by my humanity
if only i could get
out of me
but then youse would still
be here
c'mon the rip
the tear
did he meen mean
was the tear a tare
Humanity's the scar
reality will never share...

Read More

Veins like branches. Arteries.

The spindles that bind and lace them.

Optic nerves in my eyes that reflect

The pattern of the leaves.

Dissolving into my (open) pupil.

I absorb into my tissue

The grass’ dewy spit.

It smothers my vision

Green. Green. Green.

It has pierced my heart

And left me open. 

It pours out while they pour in

Each beat matches the howl of the wind

And as blood pumps, the leaves begin to fall....

Read More

Most delicate     
tragedy     
Far from ravines   
Sea knows me   
  
Air scents     
Lupines of love     
grow in the half light     

Unfolding their     
sapphire wings     
Learning to fly     
again   
  
pearlescent dew   
anoints this dawn   
I am waiting   
for the refrain   
  
of rain   
spindles weave   
axis of sky   
around   
  
gentle hills   
breathing   
in motion   
  
reflecting 
pearlescent 
painted 
ocean...

Read More

The storm erupted
from a charcoal-bruised sky
lashing spindles
of platinum rain
upon an emerald heath
tossed in trenchant wind.

Among the hedgerows and linden
the first spires emerged
like shoots from turned loam
followed by the pitch
of tiled-stone roofs
and pewter walls
of lambent unblemished granite.

The damp auburn clay,
etched by a teal river,
birthed a soaring imperial city,
its cerulean patina to ever scintillate
in sun's timeless effulgence....

Read More