Short Waxy Poems

from a waxy leave
to so nice dark red flower
to ananas comosus

...

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Crayon              
Waxy fun
Soothing to some
Outside the lines in k
Scribble...

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fog-filmed lax landscapes 
mercury mixed silver sky ---
featherless flies freeze
...

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waxy tears ooze bloodshot eyes ~ not sulphenic acid burning them dry


By
David Kavanagh...

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Scone unknown
Magic biscuit
Turgid lump
Flaky you

Crumbly ole you
Under the lights
Stale yet sweet
Waxy little you...

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waxy green leaves shone
frost's bitter bite turned them gold...
ginko's gold 'pon ground ...

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The early morning
Soft light kissing the new grass
Birds gently crooning
Waxy leaves glowing with youth
The world quietly awakes...

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breathing stops
no heartbeat
waxy pale
blood settles nether limbs 
temperature falls 
limbs get stiff
now to elements
to elements...

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"The wilting leaf aches now for the drops that once caressed its waxy surface as 
they slithered down in fury propelled by the rainstorm."...

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Gunshot Saguaro 

Long spines.  Waxy skin.
Wounds within your flesh abide.
Tall.  Distinguished.  Dried.

© Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
December 6, 2009...

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Holy Saints light the way
Illuninating a path to salvation
Leaded glass aglow
Matching waxy aroma
Prayers to cleanse a soul
Burning through darkest night...

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Flickering flame of scent
teasing wick ascend
shadows upon our skin
stories of love and laughter remit
into your body of waxy ado
to burn with tender moments of new...

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stand so lethargic 
alyssum and ash aster ---
as though half dead could not live

they raise up their heads 
as though in resurrection ---
embellishing Jesus white 


10 January 2023...

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Digging the fossil 
foot. Satisfied  less
I want my old coin.

The early call was
for preacher, who will not
get up by funeral.

Books are ugly.
Will write magnolia.
The yellow waxy monk.

Satish Verma...

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Ugly butterfly looks at me
Color-crowded, shouting
Body-dirty
Eyes-a collage
Legs-strings
Mouth- vulgar
Ears-waxy
Wings-full of ashes
Abdomen-floozy
Flight-clumsy
Smell-offensive
Laughter- of a hyena
Heart- four pebbles
Everything-ugly, ugly!...

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MYSELF I NEVER KNEW THE WAXY LEAVES OF BEING
Grow dream and pipe design
Grow sharp and to a vision of a dance
That enters mind of another body/brain
Slighted and distilled until that time
Goodbyes and paper greetings shuffle
WILD THINGS AWAIT THEIR TURN....

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Red Holly berries decorate
the Holly shrub; contrast
waxy deep green leaves, buds pop 'pon
the Tulip Tree amassed.

The Camellia Sasanqua's white
blossoms show just below
the last few golden pears of gold_
Better work than Van Gogh 

Possibly unfinished__...

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old train whistling like an asthmatic
coal fire and soot, thoughts
deranged loosely connec-
ted salad of words
withdrawal at the last instant
birth of a celestial monster
bizarre postures purpose-
less agitations catatonic
excitements, waxy flex-
ible stupour...

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Red Holly berries do adorn
Waxy, green Holly Bush
On this still, cloudy, quiet day
Pleasure for winter's hush

The pale pink running rose's leaves now
Sparse and yellow, most limbs
Abundant with thorns shown in winter
White winter filled with hymns

Unfinished...

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There's a Cherokee
Rose that's growing in
Georgia,  that's planted 
In the richest moist soil
Blooms are showy white

In spring time, thanks
For all your toil
Waxy green leaves
All the summer

Deep red hips
With seed for 
The birds, please

Bloom now
Autumn

Rose...

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Gadgets have twiddle-rings and grabbit-bars,
press-its, turn-its, handles, and plugs.

Blackouts have candles, torches, Scrabble, cards,
Too dark for darts,
Watch your hair - it nearly caught fire, 
Waxy bits on the table, 
And dried mashed potato on the plates
where the washer-upper didn’t see it. 
...

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There's nothing "just" about August
--not in Southern AZ.
Monsoon busts--no more dust.
Desert turns into a sea of green.
Happy hour's afternoon showers.
Bare ocotillo grow waxy leaves.
Canyon walls sprout water falls
Arroyos flow like mountain springs
There's nothing "just"about August
--not in Southern AZ....

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The desert sand lies tearless,
Not rising into stem nor leaf,
To allow creation of some waxy flower,
Shifting, winding with the Maker’s wind,

And then

The Creator’s mind takes its nothingness,
Paints it with strength and color,
To rise and redecorate those barren places,
Casting Love even in an empty Spring....

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chapped lips,
unkissed for many years,
cracked and swollen,
like my stone cold heart,
these lips see only tears
hardly a reason for them to part

do they make chap-stick
for the lost and lonely heart?
if they do, tell me, don't lie
how would I apply it
the comforting balm
of waxy protection
from the ache that makes me cry...

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If you were a candle
And the wind came and tried to blow you out.
I'd change its direction. 

And if the rain came 
And tried to snuff your light
I would change it back into mist. 

When waxy tears run down your precious face
I will gather them up and make you whole again.

You are my eternal flame
And I will keep you lit forever....

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