EYE TRAGEDY NATURE-:-
always
again
eye
coursing
monteverdi
NIGHTSHADE
clangorous
sonant
smashing
viscus
youthful
TRAGEDY
forgotten
predetermined
devout
godlike
nefarious
As I.. talk with you...
I feel I'm sitting here...
under a rainbow...
in the sky!
Which is a recipe...
for love and harmony!
And dreams...
as cheesy as they go...
dill like a pickle...
or false like fools gold...
can come true!
If you only knew...
how to reach...
for those very stars!
And my heart...
was forever lonely...
till I met you...
my true love.
You make my vision...
come true...
oooooo!
As I.. talk with you...
I feel I'm sitting here...
under a rainbow...
in the sky!
Which is a recipe...
for two lovers...
to embrace!
And my heart...
was forever lonely...
till I met you...
my true love.
You make my vision...
come true...
oooooo!
As I.. talk with you...
I feel I'm sitting here...
under a rainbow...
in the sky!
Which is a recipe...
for love and harmony!
And dreams...
as cheesy as they go...
dill like a pickle...
or false like fools gold...
can come true!
If you only knew...
that I...love you.
that I...love you...
that I...love you.
I lay my dark and spiraled finger
against pure and corded wildwood,
In the wailing current
of the rich wheels of wilderness,
Before the sonant vesper
of dreaming by a worshiping colt,
Shielded from sheaths of stone
by a tree marked in enfolding moss;
The flashing tongues of rolling air
in fluent, black, and breathing flesh,
Smoking in its morning cloak
of great, weaving draperies of fog:
Steeled ink, lashed still and damp
against the awning jaws of dawn.
And from the deep comes soaring
the melody of waters roaring,
Suspended in elephantine glory,
in masterly paintings of old quarry.
I hear the starlings' song,
mighty murmuration,
soaring through the ages.
Their secrets undisclosed,
naught to revered sages.
I hear the starlings' song,
mere memories of past
journeys through boundless sky,
leaving charmed contrails
rewarding to the eye.
I hear the starlings' song,
shushing – wonders promised –
solemn susurrant tones
whispering to me, "Hush",
seductive pheromones.
I hear the starlings' song
as they blacken the skies
with their mighty number,
sonant, viva voce,
murmur to me, "Slumber".
When i died, hush bequeathed the Scrabble Board
The once weighty tomes floated off cramped shelves
Whilst married letters argued midst themselves
Phonics quivered sans the vowel adored
O' warm vowel with the prominent dot
Disarrayed lost words bowed their heads and cried
On that sonant solemn day when i died
Shrouding the dot with a forget-me-not
Ill-fated, O' How could i bear such strain
Replaced without heart in a scrabble game
From die to dye, opponents scored higher
Of y's bold encroachment on i's domain
And when i died in Craig, one must exclaim
Replaced by a y, does it create Ire?
Date: 11/04/23
I died poetry contest
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
hush quiets times child
silent babies sleeping sound
harken repeated
~
sounds of whispers soft;
very quietly breathe breaths
whispers of the wind
~
speak very softly
breathe a breath less voiced muttered
quiets silent mourns
~
soft aloft sonant
utters not a loud sound hush
whispers quiet nights
7/17/21
For WHISPERS Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John lawless |
Syllables Per Line: 5 7 5 0 5 7 5 0 5 7 5 0 5 7 5
Total # Syllables: 68
Total # Lines: 15 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 46
As I quiet my mind
and press my ear softly to your pillow
my heart recalls
the lovely tune you once made up for me;
While the crickets
trill against my window
I recall ,
The sonant sound of your voice
and those sweet kisses,
beneath the willow tree .
The greatest gift of god above
Is sewn with sonant strands of love
That takes a half and makes a whole,
Whose kingdom lies within a soul.
No heralds cry or trumpets blare
Are grander than the stir of air
Moved by whispered words of love
The greatest gift of god above.
*God's two greatest gifts to mankind - speech and the opposable thumb. While the thumb is lovely for opening jars it is speech that enables love.
Unfettered passions congeal with confusion
each night as in darkness, my mind's journey roams
depths of desire, deviant and untrusting
leaving me despair.
Twisting tourniquets ever-tightening grip
as urges of fantasy relieve torment
in tranquil pools of obsession, life falters
yet intensely grows.
Weeping rivers cast onto downy cushions
meet their demise in sonant voiced billowed plumes
that cosset my fatigued head with caresses
of indulgent dreams.
JF March 16, 2009
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