Short Stags Poems

Edwin Landseer
much admired stags&deer
Thus their virtues of courage&pride
in plein-air sketches he never did hide...

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intense . . . to begin with, belayed by hours
hewn soliloquy through obverse platitudes
benign, betrayal among friends, in grounds
of open mouths, a kraken of tongues regale
upon which bar the cocktails finally arrived...

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Dare challenge me? 
Then be my guest …

The stags enter into a jousting quest,
No time now for antlers to rest,
The challenger locks his horny crest,
With focused stare and forceful zest,
A testosterone and power fest,
Nature at its Darwinian best.

Into the gene-pool 
He wished to invest,
Can he suceed,
Survive this test?...

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I bargained with God please don't send me back,
unless I can have green eyes like my cat..
I also requested brown stripes on my back.
Earth tones blend in, a well-known fact.
My final petition was to have four legs.
It's much more efficient when chasing stags.
If I must return for one final tour.
Don't make me a human.
I won't endure....

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Your eyes shine dazzles the stars
Your face's glow, blinds the moon
Your hairs fall perfectly straight
Your waist loses the stags
Your walk, it increases your fans
Girls, they follow your fashion
You are amazing in every way
I tell you, I tell you everyday
World laugh with your laughter
Your sadness makes the world sad
And my dear you are my whole world
Imran want to live just with your hold...

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Bluebells curtsy mildew pasture
Vibrant, submissive, indigo chimes
Blooms convene, witnessing daybreak
Vain, boastful, early spring unveils,
English bulbs amidst sweet woodland scent.

Floral rivers flourishing below
The matured red stags weary hooves,
Strength, stamina, amongst delicate, petite
Burnt auburn fur, greets azure petal streams -
Beneath April's succulent trees. ...

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Whittle me this
Stick I toss
Across the thick
Of fields
Plains in my mind
Vast and wide
No ending near
As I can see
Where the thoughts
Run free
Like deer
Stags I hunt
Come close
To me
I can almost
Touch
If I reach out
And just grab
But I can’t
Hold on
To them
I’ve lost
The reigns
They’re
Out
Of my hands,
I sit back jumbled
Mess
A jigsaw
With no edges
I’m a stones
Throw away
From insanity
But this
Is not
A plea…...

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Why is it the intransigent
find the intransigent
to be pigheaded, willful,
inflexible and pertinacious?
Engaging, as it were,
in an endless “tug-o-war”
neither side allowing
for consideration of 
the fallibility of the inflexibility
of calcified recalcitrance.

Stags, horns locked,
dying on an empty stage
bleach-white bones
rattling in an unfelt wind.


©7/14/2019


Intransigence Poetry Contest
John Hamilton sponsor...

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as all suns begin to evaporate
through the canals of salt
and tremble under the weight of water
and touch the untouched ground

the zealous trench is draped
with coral stags and seaweed-snakes
and teethed with pores of fire
which cleaves all light

as a strange fish, ill wander forever
the opaque, in search of nothing
in the hearth of origin, of dreams
in realms of jostling rainbows
ill plant my velvet flag
and sleep, in winding sheets...

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Antiques to ashes
Left with dusty faces

Love birds to broken hearts
Left in a thousand parts

Riches to rags
Left lonely like stags

Life still goes on
In cycles of seasons

Rainfall and snowfall
Reaching out to us on the floor

Our hard hearts softened by the torrent
From fragility we are hardened by the sun

Drop by drop a paddles starts to lift
Till it is a stream with a drift

Ray by ray our eyes overlook the pain
We are healed to live again...

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