Short Vanes Poems

Listen to poem:

a flock of terns
face headlong into the wind --
compliant wind vanes...

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Listen to poem:

black capped terns in flock
line-up all pointing seaward
twenty-one wind vanes...

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Your branches like arms
you suck me
growth in my breast

Your roots merge in vanes
your hair blows with winds
and play in my laps

You beat me when you get hurt
I fell into lamentation
And I think of you my baby...

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When morning light squeaks through vanes
of wood casements and panes,
when eyes glued shut from night's fears
open wide to mornings clear,
then in the corners of my mind
thoughts of you rush forth to find
soft smiles, open arms, a warm heart.
Know..I've loved you from the start....

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Ime calling unto you 
cause i dont know what to do

the sand giving way
underfoot

towing me away

to where angels often put


sagebrush candles

drywash weathered vanes

rusted simple somethings that mean

just the same

as the feeling I get

when calling yr name.......

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When the morning light,squeaks through the vanes;
of wooden casements and windowpanes.

When eyes glued shut,from night time fears,
are opened wanly to mornings clear.

That’s when in the corners of my mind,
thoughts of you rush forth to find;

Soft smiles, open arms and a warm heart,
You know I’ve loved you from the start....

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In silence is seeing a balanced being
Breath of a breeze, flow of a stream
The silence inside there is no noise
But that of lightening and thunder
As you discover the magic called wonder
So hope and try its in you and me 
The silence inside close your eyes to see
There Is no right there is no wrong
Only life is short and art is long
If silence be the noise that you perform
Let it rush threw your vanes like a storm....

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Will you always be there for me?
Can you be my Friend?
Can I trust you with my Life? Can I trust you with my soul? 
Can we travel the avenues of unprotected life ?
To see for ourselves
There can be or ought to be a solidified right to unquestible lonely bountries
That are our hearts of glass may see lifes vanes only at minds length
To tell our contest that we do matter
We are here for each other and want to pass with happiness of love....

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Within a catcher, dreams do scream
feathers redeem 
man's sullied soul
sweet dreams the goal

Within their vanes they transfix
each demon lick
each channeling's
imaginings

Within the web they flutter, curs
nightmare mutters
beaded offerings
each feather sings

Poet: Debbie Guzzi
Contest: Just a Minute!
Date 10/20/12

*It is believed that the origin of the Native American dream catcher (or Indian dream catchers) is from the Ojibwa Chippewa tribe....

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Listen to poem:

Where does this wind blow in from,
where has it been, what has it done?
Vanes it twisted, clothes it flapped.
Fog and smoke palls blown away.
Sails it tautened, eagles soaring supported.

Blow-ins are welcome with hair bedraggled
clothes disheveled, flapped to tatters
For the wind makes being untidy acceptable,
especially when facing upwind right in the face of it.
The wind will drop soon, and die away, begone
leaving the parade to stand easy....

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I sift this charred and barren earth
     for one small piece
     of yesterday

Though all has melted like winter ice
     before a fierce and ruthless fire.
The mansion house,
     its lattice green
     and columns white,
     shutters and vanes
     are gone.

The sounds of moving, living
     sharing and giving
     are silent.

And no more the folks
     who walked these paths
     and made this hallowed ground.


Revised January 9, 2021
For Good Old Days Contest...

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