Short Wight Poems

mite night
wight fight
lite bite
right tight...

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Poor Elmer Fudd
A communicative dud
  Couldn't talk wight
  Couldn't wite wight eithew...

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.

    wight before my

      magical eyne

            hern

         drawn to
            mine

...

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don't just lay around
have a sound bound
try other thing
thtat lifes brings
no what your sides
small or wide
or wight only a ounces
MAKE YOUR LIFE
COUNT...

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I entered with weary light
waiting for something to reach out and bite

only to find how tight
oh so tight

that door-way wasn't right
either for my wight or height

and i left with a tear in my sight
amd the door opened all night...

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My darkest deeds have come to light
As you lie here shivering
They cast long shadows in the night
My darkest deeds have come to light
Your haunting smile, my gentle wight
Your low voice softly quivering
My darkest deeds have come to light
As you lie here shivering...

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I knew a man from Isle of Wight
who often got into a fight.
His words made little sense
and people took offence.
He was, indeed, a blatherskite*.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -				   
*a person who talks at great lengths
  without making much sense....

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A witch on a broomstick at night
was veering to left and then right,
she soared and she dipped,
then over she flipped
and swept up the Isle of Wight...

Apologies to anyone who lives on the I of W : )

written 9th October for Tania's Halloween contest

Syllables: 8, 8, 5, 5, 8...

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Somewhere, stark in lunar light,
A werewolf wakens from a wight,
And creeps throughout the sleepy night
To give his fellow creatures fright.

Somewhere, hapless sot alone
Through forest stumbles toward home,
Types panicked text on shaking phone...

Somewhere, werewolf gnaws on flesh-ripped bone....

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Nostalgia makes me feel wight,
he makes me fright.

I have tried to seek help of his,
but he just sets me free.

I have frowned,
I have fought,
but he didn't try to give it a thought.

I have cried,
I have tried,
But we just happen to divide. 

Our paths have been closed, 
I guess we are not supposed....

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there are layers to you that not yet to be revealed
 life is full of black holes and the only person who can pull you out is
 you your body is not you is your soul and nobody can cut into your soul
 god put you into this world to be real not perfect
 so stop the pills to lose Wight stop making fun of people cus honey your not perfect nobody is...

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Virus now in decline
Vacations back on line
Vectis arms open wide
Vessels each hour to Ryde
Visitors so oft held
Valhalla they have dwelled
Valediction withheld


[Vectis: the old Roman name for The Isle
Of Wight, it is still in common use today.
Valediction: an act, gesture or words of farewell]


5 May 2021
Contest: Pleiades V
Sponsor: Kim Merryman...

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If only you could hear me sing
Maybe you’d forget your pain
Sometimes I try to conjure you 
An effort that’s always in vain 

If only you believed in me
Maybe I’d be fit to fight 
Sometimes I only seem to be 
A pallid, weak and starving wight

If only words didn’t fail me so 
Maybe then you’d know my love
Sometimes when I dream of you
I imagine that’s enough 

August 2, 2020...

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have you ever felt 
the drum
the hum
of your mind slipping way
like a thousand voices
talking at once
and all you want to do
is fold up and cry
and the silence strikes
at the same time
a wight sits on you chest
trying to stop your breathing
and you dream of
crawling in a hole and dieing 
still you stand up
and fight the tears
everything subsiding
knowing your just have to do it again...

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.

 the crackling sound
    in connect with
       the sparkle
     'bout hern all

    she wuz the li'l
        wight girl
         trapped
        by thugz
     az mine coca
         tattered
            self

      her other's
           sold

her's never minded
     and melded
          with
          mine
      night after
        this last
   sparkling night 


*whut, Tarzan didn't tell y'all,
  Jane iz the wood nymph ;)...

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What if the winter
crawls too slow toward a melting Spring,
what if the willow be buried alive
under the wight of a weeping sky?

A long deep sigh fills the land,
with the whites of numbed eyes.
Snow flows in and out
of a hollow stump.

What if the world quite forgot to turn
in its grave,
and under the willow, there unseen,
underneath that veiled mistress of time,

were heaped mounds of frozen shoes,
and none warm enough
left
to fill them?...

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My dying friend

Today I met a friend
at the local café.
He had lost wight
his days were numbered.
No, he was not
afraid of death
it held no promises 
of everlasting life.
I feared he might 
say something stupid
as forgiving 
his enemy, why should he?
Or say I love 
to someone 
he didn´t love,
because it was expected.
His hopes were 
to be left alone
in a room and only
talk to his past
and perhaps laugh 
a little, 
Life had for him 
Always been ridiculous...

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O could I hear your voice like dew dropping sweetly
Inflamed all night by hot dreams, my lips would cool
Languishing no more to drink your milk so slowly
Oozing from the fountain peak of nipples clear pool
Vertically exuding, I should satiated subside in delight
Eternal grateful that you came to me in morning light
You are my hibiscus, my jasmine bejewelled and bright
O I love you, my sweet adorable native land. My wight, 
Utopia of the new world, Jamaica, sweet star of our night....

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And late at hour, by rippling roar
Of waters lapping 'neath the tor,
A figure bathed in lunar light
Who smiled and turned upon my sight.
And beating wings above the wight,
The somber creatures of the night. 
And as the stars about him played,
A sad embrace he gently made.
"If I were 'cross the seas again, in climates fair or poor,
I'd still be where I've always been, sailing by the shore."
He my sire and I his daughter,
Far across the fretting water,
Far across the sea.
...

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