Falling over the
sonic event horizon
suspension in sound
dusted canyons
wild children play
blackbird finding its way home
Jesus said i should take more care
wanderings to smooth the soul
Solitude my melancholy way
who tussles these days?
I do not understand
what it is I wait for?
Leitmotifs are aplenty
sounds are driving us
we become the score
wrapping through the empty years
laughing at the tears inside
of a mariners ghost.
Angels in furs so white
Brave voices as cool as sprite
Cheeks so red or pink
Delights your day without a wink
Endless care reserved for you
Flocking in troupe over you
Giggling over rainbows of you
Halos in head that cover you
In miles and miles they travel far
Junipers like trees watching your jar
Kept in jar, your fallen stars
Love in heart without scars
Moments in life they praise so loud
Novels of time you read aloud
Out of the blue angels come to life
Paints of you in real life
Quetzalcoatl may scare you
Remember angels are there for you
Serenading the depths of you
Telling stories of me and you
Under your pillow is a dream come true
Velvets and sashes that wrap in you
White you wear is your skin deep
Xisti of true colors you keep
Your white angels of time on grip
Zooming with God you trip
Sonic blue fast bestfriend hedgehog got to go speedy
Sonorous, saporous symphonies: strong;
soothingly spirited, sublime sweet songs.
Satisfied sigh, sees salubrious springs;
sharp, sizzling sunburn scream: saltwater stings.
Searing sharp satirists, snarkily snide;
subtle smart sophists show soft, specious side.
Skimpy, salacious shows sell sexy spice;
somber, sad serials scarcely suffice.
Seismic'ly sensitive subsurface screens;
substandard systems: severe shakes scarce seen.
Scaling slick surfaces, snow-scented slides;
slogging sludge swamps, smelling stinky sulfides.
Sans similarities, superimposed;
sequencing syllables, simple supposed.
----------
for the Begin with a Letter Poetry Contest
sponsored by Angela Tune
written 06/28/2022
an alliterative 'sonnet', with aabb pattern and 10 syllable lines
updated/extended from a shorter, earlier poem
It all happened in a flash
Riding speedily on a ghost
Going on a daredevil ride
Into a valley no one goes.
Adrenaline surging through
My veins and into my brain.
Racing through the streets
With a continuous need to
Go even faster than normal,
I was going for a record-breaking win.
Piercing the wind and tearing it apart,
I entered a realm where
Only speed demons existed.
Almost there, I could feel my skin
Vibrating, my brain trying to keep up.
Yes! Almost there, I could see it.
Swerving a bit out of control,
I panicked! The race was over,
And so, too, were my days of riding.
structures of our existence
rankle like fire spewed by a volcano
figurative patterns extruded by natures way
elements of destruction thought beautiful
mesmerize in formed flight...pathways labeled
“fixed” doesn’t matter where...up close
and personal through barriers of sight
textual wisdom reminders washed away by the
flow of existence slowly and surely making its way
stars pinpointed reflect glowing embers
sonic blasts never heard by anyone except trees
one tree falling, one hand clapping never more to
be heard across eternities of the ages.
In this day and age, some ailments are chronic
Sonic screwdrivers are better than expensive tonics
Would I try it, no sweat
Beats incision by bayonet
Much quicker, less painful with speeds supersonic
Americans lifted their picket
When Cuba proved they can't lick it
The bureaucrats came
And went back home lame
The Yanks just can't tolerate cricket!*
*Research concluded American diplomats
were assaulted by Cuban crickets rather than a sonic
bombardment.
In this day and age, some ailments are chronic
Sonic screwdrivers are best to expensive tonics
Would I try it, no sweat
Beats incision by bayonet
Much quicker, less painful with speeds supersonic
With Christmas nigh upon us,
The naysayers are out.
Again to cast aspersions,
On little brussel sprouts.
These iron laden taste bombs,
I jump to their defense.
My favourite Christmas veg,
Despite the flatulence.
The smell as they are cooking,
Some find so nauseating.
Not me though I love it,
I stand there salivating.
After Christmas dinner,
I trawled around the plates.
Gathering up leftover sprouts,
Just asking to be ate.
But there was a price to pay,
It was like a sonic boom,
The cat shot up the Christmas tree,
As the family fled the room.
In this day and age, some ailments are chronic
Sonic screwdrivers are superior to expensive tonics
Would I try it, no sweat
Beats incision by bayonet
Much quicker, less painful with speeds supersonic
Inspired by Sir Thomas Cunningham
Seneca Gun and A Sonic Boom
A Seneca gun is usually only one
After it has been over and done;
When you feel,
Wonder if real;
Two or more loom, were sonic boom.
Jim Horn
Arsenals of axes brought by the crate
Pedals increasing experimental
Trashy dissections of raw cityscapes
NYC rockers gone transcendental
Static blasts shredding the off-key high pings
Maracas hit toms to keep structured pace
Drum sticks wedged under alternate tunings
Meted by contrasting booms of the bass
Dissonance anteed raises the ceiling
Shaping sound by analog disruption
Searching/defining an urban feeling
Stark layers of beautiful corruption
Sweet ballads sung without being pretty
Growls and screams about something gritty
Sonic Heroes are the best
But sometimes they have to rest
Tails and Knuckles have super powers
And all the humans live in towers
Super Sonic and Super Shadow
Lead their teams through the meadow
Hyper shadow and Hyper Sonic
Quickly transform together into Shadic.
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