The tempo of the music
adds energy to the rhythm of the night,
and the pulse of warm blood rushing through sinewy veins.
The mixture of perspiring bodies,
cheap perfume, and tepid whiskey adds a pungent aroma
that permeates even the tattered tablecloths.
The scene, obscured by dimness
and a haze that slowly envelops the dusty paper lanterns,
gives the room an eerie ghost-like glow.
Writhing, creeping forms
undulate, moving sensuously
to the repeated thumping of resonating bass strings.
The soulful melody of the saxophone
weaves its way over, around and through the crowd
as it playfully caresses the thick air.
Remote conversations and laughter
mix with bold encouragements from the crowd
as a lone dancer, with little effort, executes her sexy, sultry moves.
A breeze blows, ever so slightly,
as the door opens and more revelers enter the stifling room,
the lanterns swaying in the breeze.
A thin shaft of moonlight slowly creeps across the bare floor
as the aroma, the haze and the music
waft through the opening and into the rhythm of the night.
Mutant metronome’s
stygian riddle
inscrutable fixation
spuming
clustered clairvoyance
honing snoopy
quest querulous
quicquidlibet
tamper connived
sinewy stratagem
plimsoll plot
“sneaker” of
wily webfooted
nefarious nudge
at
tenebrific toll
maple smoke
screen screed
clandestine
cobwebs cohere
mohair marinated
muddle
subdued thespian
herringbone hoodwink
skewed camouflage
perused pearl
inveigling
skulduggery rife
underscored cadence
persuasive
percussive rattle
ubiquitous underbelly
prop to
dodgy dialogue
muted ritardando
silhouette streak
dangling magnet
mired in
gauche guesswork
subterfuge sciophobia
inkpot
amorphous machination
fiction wizards
emblazon
indices incipient
embryo empiricism
mouldering
cabinet coterie
spookish svengali
minatorial
repercussions
incurvate
sniffer dog
detective
poirrot’s prognosis
clouseau contingency
that
rivetting mystery
Amazon is my night penetrating
alert I sprung from branch tight
it is buck nutritious blood
observation stark from green-blue irises
beauty meets danger not looking away
lithe tongue saliva intestine surrender
Muscles sinewy, handsome black the Sky
claws ripping buck’s bones snap cracks
mitochondria leaps from atoms, stars dance
to splash spine fluid about sand wet soft
mirroring clear a rebirthing act
nature ascertains when to numb nerves to claws
no eluding life when hunger mud stalks
Iridescence watches flesh rip longing lick
buck relinquishing spirit ~ cannot groan
black fur transmuting flesh disappearing
leather into charcoal night appearing
her thickening her for next week’s killing
time folding ouroboros
Panther curls, tailing
_____________________________
[ Poet’s Note in Comments Section ]
The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.
It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.
You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.
The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.
In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the dream felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.
Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.
Sinewy strong sturdy Seth had his pick of girls
I never date them, he said, if they have any curls.
He broke his own rule when he met my stepmother.
She had gorgeous curls like his youngest stepbrother
We never figured out why he broke his own rule
But handsome hunky Seth is nobody’s fool
He married up, married wise, wealthy and well
They are totally happy as far as we can ever tell
A petite yet sinewy muscle, exuding charisma,
A citadel of expression, tenacious in awe.
Its tentacles sting with a vindictive jest,
While cavernous blooms cradle the nectar’s quest.
Cobblestoned emotions jade my mental slate,
As chronicles surface, vivid and up to date.
A fragile form, each breath a whispered plea,
Cracked like ice beneath a trembling sea.
Nervous breakdowns drown me by the shore;
Patronizing gazes weigh heavily on my core.
A colossal trial looms, plunging me into chiaroscuro gloom,
Echoing the spectral whispers of Annabelle's forsaken room.
Whiffs of solace levitate from amma's lap,
A delicate darling, like rose dew on morning's nap.
Yet, from heaven's soft veil, a Messiah descends,
Bestowing wisdom, like a balm that mends.
A cooing whisper: “Confidence is the finest accessory one can wear,”
Infusing my fragile spirit, quelling mayhem with flair.
A garment forged by time, self, and panache,
Glinting like sapphires in the esoteric cache.
For fear ravages the dungeon’s shadowed depths,
Shattering armor, leaving it fractured, bereft.
Magnetic words defy gravity’s law—
A candle in the rain, my flame untouched, in thaw.
They came last night
Sashayed and tromped through
A dreamy, semi-wakefulness
Snapshots of vague faces
Riffling pages of pageantry
Shuffling through suffering.
I failed to recognize many
Longed to linger with others
Applauded successes
Cheered failures resiliency
Reached to touch, to caress
The sinewy shadows of sorrow.
Awed by the strength and tenacity
Of life’s forever fortunes
As they danced across its ballroom floor
Huddled in its corners
Laughed at its ever-changing punchline.
A soft tear reminding me
That I had somehow been there
Shared a cosmic connection
With a distant,
Yet eternal
Moment.
Outside my window it does stand, a guardian so grand.
Larger than most, older it seems, is the tree evergreen.
Sinewy bark and leaves do grace a silent sentinel in place.
Year long shade it does cast while other trees do not last.
Perfect shape for a perfect tree the deepest color I see.
Before I was the tree did be and will remain after me.
The bible
our pure poetry
Divine voice
art -- gallery imagery
Father’s expanding palettes of time
space infinite –
shadows of unframed
formless canvas -- man's freedom
to light, shape, transverse supernal grace,
we, alone, limit speed
and trajectory
bridging dark gaps, colors
dappled, dropped and splashed
faith will make mix, both consciously
and intuitively apply:
heaping our scrapers and brushes,
the chill of the chalkboard screech
the joy of the slip and slide
the rankle of arms and hands figuring
otherwise meaningless medium
Creativity man's Adam
ligaments of my elastic being
dutifully, lovingly allowing stretch
for explore
sinewy constructs for
mental lift and taut endurance,
the unshakable frame that
holds all upright, and
makes daily challenges
superbly sculptable, while
retaining elasticity --
God let’s be
and we decide
if when and what…?
His unseen hand
yet in the flaming attributes….
A boss can The Vigorous retire
While the latter is still a live wire,
His arms still sinewy, his feet sound tires:
The one who vibrant kids sires...
A boss can send home his firm's tears' dryer:
Saver of company's cars from mire,
It doesn't have to die down: 'the fire'
Nor does it need to corrode 'the wire'.
Then, your arguments could hearers tire
And, dragged too long, make you little liar;
Ones clearly seeking a confused buyer,
Wherefore you could not but go that higher...
Bosses mostly retire The Tired
And when they do they have them just fired!
Amidst the shadows of the night,
Silent warriors clad in black,
On a mission to make things right,
They embark on a noble track.
With steely resolve and sharpened swords,
They move with grace and perfect poise,
Protecting the weak, defending the lords,
Their strength and courage never recoils.
Through the trials of fire and ice,
They stand fast, never giving in,
With hearts of steel and souls of sacrifice,
Their bravery and loyalty a sinewy hymn.
The black knights ride on, unafraid,
Ever ready to face their fate,
With conviction in every blade,
And a resolute will, never abate.
So follow the black knights' lead,
With steadfast purpose and fearless heart,
And you too shall be freed,
To make your own noble mark.
Three camels and
A whore
Worked the desert
In the heat of the midday sun
Tanned and sinewy
Plying their trade
Sleeping in
the chill when done
Transporting goods
Or transporting men
To them it was all the same
Never looking for more
Than the minimum wage
For something,or someone
To blame
Taking it all upon themselves
the weight of the world as a song
Carrying the sins or the goods therein
they solemnly plodded along
A bouquet of the vestiges of our gall
An aroma that we all parade
With an essence we can't abate
One day it shall encompass us all
For we are inevitable to the fall
And that sinewy scent gives us no shade
From that quietus, not willing to fade
But when we enter the gates, we shall be shawled
Let that last fragrance trumpet our arrival
As we cross the everlasting sea
Cause those that greet us are only tribal
But if your name is ascribed in the book of the bible
The the scent of quietus will set you free
For only our transgressions, we are liable.
Some sounds are
sinewy toes scratching drum skins,
a pigeon shuffle-dance on unseen roofs,
a clatter in the flap and coo.
Rose bushes are mute,
until they have lost their heads
then they squeak and squawk.
A soft-slap of junk mail onto an empty hand,
paper wings falling in an overheard flutter.
Some sounds remind of…
dead-space clambering up a blank wall,
chicken bones rattling in the bubbling-boil;
the sound of deranged harpsichords.
Other sounds are knuckles cracking
under cliffs of silence.
The stuttering oaths of paws gripping
ice.
The ratatattat scrabble of cats
chasing rats.
Sleep prods ribs until they break-up
with the prattling night,
ear-bones surface, deafened
by the cutting edge of a yammering light.
Pastel florals arise and flow,
in hues of tranquil misting seas.
Back light of a sapphire glow,
captivates the heart of glee.
Impassioned crest of rainbow song,
crescendos in the twilight beams.
Where angels walk abreast in throngs,
emanations of hope begin to stream.
Majesty of the cresting wave,
gifts sinewy strings of morning dew.
Mother Nature then engraves,
her claim of incandescent hues.
Gay sings the bird up in the bower;
in observation of the blossoming flowers.
8-3-2021
A Brian Strand Your Choice Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Sub Categories
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