Short Swarthy Poems

Seven swarthy swimmers
Sailboard so silently
Surfing stormy seas

31st July 2016...

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A dipping wand for liquid myrhh
from rusted locks will quickly turn
and fragrant franckincense dissolves
my solitude into applause.
A shepherd's reverie declines
and draws his heart up next to mine.
For humble is my soul a'laden
and sweet I be, this swarthy maiden....

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No you cannot have your way
Because this is my party.
I am the king of the day.
Yes, girls can be king, Smarty.
You can stay and eat and play.
Birthday cake, scarf it hearty.
Can you live? I must say nay.
I am king and you are swarthy.
Let her eat then take her away.
I am king, and it’s my day!...

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Untitled 	

I saw my swarthy skin shine again a little bright
The rays of my imperfection covering my face like a veil
I saw my shadow multiply images of my existence
Thus my soul remembered the sound of my heart beat

I saw my swarthy skin shine again a little brighter
This time I new, a drop of Jesus’ blood was poured in my cane...

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A power plant or a powder room? Your choice
Crap!
One of those dreams again.
I had already had one of these last Thursday.
Isn’t there a limit or something?

I knew if I chose the wrong one 
I could end up boiled in strawberry Jell-O
or 
my teeth could be pulled out by rusty pliers.
I choose planetarium, I said smartly.
Found myself trampled by a swarthy buffalo a few seconds later....

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When they decided to leave their small planet, these Gamymades had already
conquered Junipter, Pluto and Venus and planned to seize the Moon and Mars;
these huge, horrifying beasts with swarthy, hard skin and bellicose eyes so fiery
can set stones ablaze with their breath and make smoke rise higher than clouds...
be advice they may invade Earth and destroy everything we built over the ages....

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While the water’s whitened waves
Flew forth fast in foamy sprays
All amidst an airy act
Blowing, blasting, beating back
Seeing swarthy, seaward sailing ships
Onward o’er the ocean dips
Upward, downward, driving days
Seeking harbors, havens haste their ways
The ships sail sure in stormy seas
Calmly coursing comes a breeze
Now softly sailing, slides the ship
Muffled, mellow, made my trip...

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Soft shadows, 
slowly slide suspiciously,
sustaining shivers 
shooting silently-
suggesting simultaneously, 
surreal wind-blown, 
wispy, wisteria wands
whispering wildly, 
waltzing wonderfully-
while willfully 
wagering, winged-wights wallow.
Slithering silhouettes 
secretly stun- 
surely, sculpturing spooky, 
scary spirits-
showcasing swarthy, 
spellbinding sprites.
...

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When they decided to leave their dwarf planet, these Gamymades had already
conquered Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus and planned to seize Venus and Mars;
they are huge, horrifying beasts with swarthy, hard skin and bellicose eyes so fiery...
they set soil ablaze with their hard breath, making smoke rise higher than clouds:
be warned, they'll invade Earth and enslave us and destroy all we built over the ages!...

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The Smeaton Eddystone's architecture 
First lighthouse protecting navigators
Light blinking, pulsating, luminously
Loud foghorn resounding resonantly
Guides shipwrecked mariners vigilantly
Or swarthy seafarers incessantly
On oceans perilous, tempestuous
A sailor’s salvation eternally

09~19~14
Jan Allison
Contest: The Lighthouse
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Form: Rhopalic verse
~awarded 1st place ...

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"Guerrillas"

Society's sins turned an extrovert into a hermit, cannot trust your neighbors everyone plotting on how to make a million,, selfishness is the new bingo!

I feel for the infants incubated inside the dragon's layer where an injection so lethal feels so legal yet a book is considered a hook so it is better avoided....

My swarthy skin got me trapped in the projects, streets and jail cells.
Why are we always the victim of circumstance?...

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I laid my head in an ocean of heather,
Drinking panorama of silent weather,
Life still ahead.

When swarthy sky sent the messengers of night,
My lost time started grappling with dreams in fight,
Left miles to tread.

Down the bed of heather, resting in timeless world,
Echoes of silent words, yet to be uttered swirled,
Not an ear to be read.


Third Place in Triple Stanza Couplet Tail-Rhyme Poetry Contest sponsored by charles messina...

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