The Chevy speeds by
eyesight pings it,
a reflexive vision
momentarily catches itself
looking back.
The barn is vacant, not empty,
its eyes have been locked open,
it bathes in sparrow and bat time.
Now hollow lids capture, snatch at
a headlong flight of vision.
A snap of fleeting attention
has stabled a glance in a timeless stall
where dust hangs
in a slant of suspended light.
Road barn and car are frozen
as one symbiotic after-image,
until all disappear into each other.
Then without pause or passage
horizons are released,
distance and perspective amended,
as the tremor of a splintered
looking glass
fades behind racing wheels.
Poetry Soup, it has been a while
What has happened, so much death judgement vindication even when I was a child
Green mile I had to walk when my mother was deceased
I had to build up the courage and integrity
To continue at this point to express what was inside of me
Could it be who I am have been here all along
Although oh precious mother was called home
No phone I would never hear her voice
Stuttering like Abraham the father of many nations was reminding me my course
when she walked the last mile of life
I will move forward and become a stabled wife
It was many years I had to grieve
I never was triggered by loss but what was inside of me
To all which are continuing on your journey at hand
Make sure you heal, therefore you can stand
Straight and tall without a flaw
All has happened over the years to force you to talk
Even through poems, manuscripts and whatever can heal
A mirror can only be cleaned when you see who you are for real!
Except change and let of pain 2024!
I am known
for all the subject and matter
that I will never know.
At first light a cool breeze
drops the small humming bugs
from flagging brush and tree.
The stabled horse and I have not met,
yet in a distant stall I hear him wake up
from his statuesque reverie,
shuffle and fart – become a part of
this harkening.
The fields are covered in cuckoo spit
where the dew strings it droplets,
fungi creak open, spores dust
a fecund earth in heat.
I am unknown yet
just as the sky is, as it waits to be painted.
Listening, I hear through a keyhole
drilled through an echoing skull.
A cat wants to come inside
so I let myself out.
The corner of my eye notes it
as my car speeds by,
eyesight pings it
momentarily, an image
looks back.
The outbuilding is vacant,
bathed in a sparrow and bat time
that flutters inside its hollow shell.
Barn ambience
has kidnapped my attention
it has stabled my eyes in a timeless stall
where horse tails hang suspended
from broken timepieces
not clocks, just pieces of time
that,
like dust in sunlight
muster in the air
to mime a car and a glance
rubbernecking back.
A brilliant moon casts its mellow glow,
O'er fields covered with glistening snow!
Skeins of geese fly on high silhouetted 'gainst the moon;
The scene is all set for a sleigh ride, so very opportune!
The sleigh has been shed of a years build-up of dust,
And its runners have been waxed, a requisite must!
Dashing Dan was harnessed with jingly bells of course;
For generations he's drawn the sleigh, this gentle and faithful horse!
Mom, Dad and the kids snuggle 'neath quilts warm and snug;
"Giddy up" says Dad and Dan leaps forward with a gentle tug!
They sing 'Jingle Bells' and other Yuletide tunes with joy;
Dad reminisces about sleigh rides with his Grandpa as a boy!
They sip mugs of warm cider and coffee to ward off the chill,
Hailing others with 'Merry Christmas', wishing them goodwill!
Arriving home and after Dan was stabled and the sleigh was stowed,
They sip cocoa nigh the hearth to warm up from the cold!
Precious memories were met this night for future family lore,
As they anticipate next year's moonlight sleigh ride once more.
Entry for Constance La France's "Writing Challenge - Write A Christmas Poem" Contest
25 November 2022
A PROSPEROUSING TECHNOLOGY
(BIOTECHNOLOGY)
The life Meliorate
Is the innovative way of
Biotechnician;
Explore around the world - by
Dispensing unique technologies and
Made into ocean!
An Myraid roles are played in our
Prosprousing technology - BIOTECHNOLOGY
Treasury of the Medical Industry ;
Healer of the Biowar!
An Epic creation of Technical World!
Consistency of
Bioethics are prolonged and stabled,
An Bio Prosperousing Technology!!
C. J. Thanushika
*Image of Huge Oak Tree by Pixabay.
Huge Oak Tree
Doth sun thus shine its countenance,
Gift tree whose loft spreads its expanse,
Its girth above neath midst remained,
Flicks of light burst like windows stained,
The trunk weighs down the cradled youth,
Internal weave exploits the root,
Limbed-tree who hath purged forth hugged vein,
Thereon, ventures long with its frame,
Styled tree stabled in wonderment,
Our learned life begs our testament,
The tree tilled naught nor didst we toil,
Providence hath sprung from the soil.
2022 March 01
Straddling Town boundary, brick spawl
Hill vista stabled horse sanctity five acres
Dishes decades of rural dream enthrall
Imprisons middle aged, once a girl elated
Saddle, bridle, hay bales, blankets, braids
Gave naive teenager safe zoned focus
Partnership purchase pony land band-aid
Stole pull of nurturing mother purpose
Faded rainbow ribbons drape forlorn
Dressage shows require rider's devotion
Determined framed duo, walls adorn
Equine equate to offspring, team's token
18th June
Unequivocal Ideal Youth
Coddled Comfortably Rots
I miss the barn, the hay loft,
a place to listen to the midday sun
creaking through old wood.,
the small clouds of horse flies
moving as one in their jet-pack bodies,
that rose and fell
their small engines stuttering.
The humpbacked skeleton of a tractor
where goats built their castles,
the oily emptiness of its heart
as it clanked under their hooves
into a gearless life once more.
When the empty stalls echoed a warning
to the horses that no longer stabled there,
I would get up into the sagging rafters
where feather whiskered winds
rustled dust through broken boards,
It used to take them an hour
before they knew I was missing,
later they knew where to find me.
I miss the soul-deep smell
of dry leather tackle long unharnessed,
the empty cans of linseed and engine oil,
the old shotgun so rusted
it grew out of a dirt-caked bucket
as brown as a whittled flower stalk.
All gone, the barn, the farm house
and ‘they’ - gone now.
Yet sometimes they call to me
as I dream in a lullaby loft,
and I still a little disappointed
to be found.
How many reindeer does Santa have stabled?
Let's take the count, as in the fables.
If you count eight then you are off,
for that, I cannot but scoff.
You might say nine but to no avail,
That's if you include the red-nosed one in the tale.
No, Santa has ten reindeer in all,
If you don't believe me, just give their roll a call.
We know Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixen,
Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen.
And if you will recall,
Rudolph became the most famous reindeer of all.
But no one ever speaks about number ten,
Perhaps, it's because no one thinks of them.
I want to cry when the fuss about Rudolph I at Christmas hear,
Because everyone forgets Olive...Olive the other reindeer.
the born and unborn
*progeny of donkey veiled*
passenger stabled
12/13/2019
Intricate dull summer, autumn's scourge,
Dog day noons, sultry dusk undress the night,
Mirage, sweaty foreheads entertain an oasis,
Rise of Fall, leaves, plot ere barked disguises,
Autumn's quarrels, chartreuse hawks verdant green hue,
Spar shades, tones, pigments re, imagination,
Expelled from hold, abandon o'er cold,
Huddled neath shedding sunshades,
Sun pierced, stains owned ardor brown,
Wrinkled facing fertile lengthened passage,
Refreshed, sprouts anew,
Laments a stabled tree near a rippling brook,
Transpires driven, meaning sustained, neath or aloft,
Gravitation charters its progress,
Ingenuous source served natural throat that thirsts beyond,
Prompt wintry ice, obscure its way, not bar its exemplary flow,
Gratification expounded, outpours inside the expanse,
Breeding fluidity, according to varied species of life on Terra.
2019 October 07
howmanysyllables
14 lines x 10 syllables = 140 syllables
A Shadorma
A wild horse
freedom’s fiery flight
courage is
his nature
power to face Gaia’s moods
flaming transitions.
A stabled
steed quickly fattened
fortitude’s
broken back
long days awake memories
no longer made, stilled.
In corral
fleeting dreams arise
greet the day
breaking free
one jump and freedom anew
just keeps beckoning.
A wild horse
freedom’s fiery flight
courage is
his nature
power to face Gaia’s moods
flaming transitions.
A stabled
steed quickly fattened
fortitude’s
broken back
long days awake memories
no longer made, stilled.
In corral
fleeting dreams arise
greet the day
breaking free
one jump and freedom anew
just keeps beckoning.
The night shift drags on
As I sit at the monitors
Security work is like that
Some nights once the cleaners leave
There is nothing to do
Except wait for the end of the shift
The monitors show the perimeter fences
They were installed
To monitor people
Who jump the fences
To graffiti the stabled trains
Then the northern most security light activates
Then the next south turns
And so on to the main gate
The lights stay for a time
Then darkness resumes
As I gaze at the clock
It says three am
The strangest thing is
It happen for the next two nights
So tonight I am standing at the gate
As my watch alarm goes off
It is three am now
And the lights do the dance
Until the light goes on the gate
Then the darkness envelopes me
There was an investigation
As to why the guard disappeared
There was no sound
Just a moment later he wasn’t around.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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