Short Swash Poems

the swash of cold waves,
ankle-deep, twines burning sand -
infinite surging

oil of coconut
on darkening flesh, the sun -
surf and splash sizzle...

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Oh my gosh!
Utter bosh...
Waves swash,
Watery slosh,
Simply awash,
Auto wash...
Oughta quash?
Lost me galosh!
That's not posh.
Put the kibosh-
Don't josh!...

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Listen to poem:

The backwash reflection
sent waves seawards
to crash headlong
into the oncoming waves
sending swash and spray skywards.
It was fun to go careering out 
and ride the surge, and get upshot
as the two waves met and banged together.
The afterglow of backwash aftereffect
was exhilarating that afternoon....

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Swash buckling, quirky, crazy kinda guy
Scared you to death with one look from his eye
His reign has come to an end
JD’s spirit doth transcend 
Winks mischievously as he waves goodbye

Written: 10th April 2019
Contest:  Pirate Themes Limerick
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
4th place


Syellables Per Line:	10 10 7 7 10

Contest Strand no 730
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place...

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A distant howl is heard
Nearing... Closer...Coming
hounds on the trail
seeking flesh- soiled flesh.

Ghosts creeping in the yard
Creeping...creeping...creeping
graves dug unwilling to rest
humming your name
The noise of the dead.

Skeletons banging on the closet.
Secrets out!
Oceans of blood flooding your walls.
swash...swash...swash
Stained hands.

 Forfeit sleep   
Night reverberates your name....

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sometimes my mind wanders
and I just ride along
never knowing where it’s headed
I relax and hum song

we go to far off places
without a worldly care
and together there’s so many
adventures that we share

swash bucklers fighting pirates
knights of long ago
cowboys fighting outlaws
a dancer in a show

when my mind  wanders
I just enjoy the ride
cause no matter where it takes me
I’m always satisfied...

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In a buffer zone
Of day and night
When the light was passing
His baffle to the night
Dark come out of light
Or light come out of dark
In a doubt swash
You came out of my doubt
With that eyes angel
Who Host
day and night
In harmony
That was I doubt
Arrowed glance of light
And the aim of the mug of light
Broken baked bare heart mine?
And I am not any more
Who I was or where I was
And that make me knew
How god made
This universe out of dark...

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Silt collects at the outreaches of an ancient, murky marsh.  
Twisted tendrils of white oleander form archaic symbols.  
Deviant rituals, cocooned and lost eons ago, lie awash—  
Taken to the surface, unleashed by a cacophony of demonic cymbals.  
Now, time suddenly stops by this grotesque swash.  
War is waged, and humanity becomes a mere memento, just a collection of broken trinkets in otherworldly drawers, like lost thimbles. 
...

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