I May or May Not Be Opposed 1-3-24 Original Poem Tremolo Torrents
I could not get the bold function to work so I put the original lines in parenthesis.
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Opposing Tremolo Torrents
“Thundering fat raindrops fall
Driven deluge in wild squalls
As torrents pelt the thirsty ground
Sheer rain staccatos resound
Tempests fury rides the storm
Wind-swept raindrops leap free form.”
Whispering mists kiss the air
Float on sheer quiet prayers
Murmurs of a zephyr’s sigh
Tiptoe through a misty sky
In rhythms of hazy veils
Gentle brumes rest on cattails.
Tremolo Torrents – 12-20-23
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Tremolo Torrents
Thundering fat raindrops fall,
Driven deluge in wild squalls,
Gossamer drops stream in waves
Quivering mists pour like raves,
Frenzies of clear crystal pearls
Hang from boughs in flawless swirls
Downpours shiver in rain flows
Swallow remnants of rainbows,
Tremolo thunder prepares
Hot ripples through static air
As torrents pelt thirsty ground
Sheer rain staccatos resound
Each drop reflects lightning’s fire,
Pivots wildly with desire,
Tempest’s fury rides the storm
Wind-swept raindrops leap free form.
A Patch of Blue Embraced
Sunlight
Freckles sidewalks
Summer shimmer light points
Golden yellow sunbeam slices
Leap in celebration
Embrace a patch
Of blue
Raindrops
Speckle rooftops
Umbrellas dot the gloom
Puddles dance in bright staccatos
Trees bow down to rainbows
To find a patch
Of blue
Fog’s breath
Camouflages
The meadow forest’s face
Where spiders shower in dew drops
Tule haze swept away
Opens a patch
Of blue
Lightning
Scented incense
Ozone thunder raging
Elusive storm winds playing tag
Teases clouds make a hole
For nascent patch
Of blue
Moonlight
Paints with silver
Moonglow gilded glitter
Platinum kisses drip from leaves
Looking to quick embrace
A midnight patch
Of blue
6/1/21
Contest: Heptastich
Sponsor: William Kekaula
By: rontwigger
The past we just leave behind
With its utmost ardor and courage
Seems to linger on our veins
Egging us to sashay with hope.
The moments we want to shine
Filled with hope, faith and trust--so genuine.
Upon our warm, wide open arms
Ready to feed, ready to fend.
All that are gone are sure to come
Making us realize that life is but a juggle
Nothing's pure and nobody's perfect
Impurities, we have; impeccabilities we love.
The future we long to have
Amidst the gazillion possibilities
Divided by heaven and hell
All staccatos are towards eternity.
IT FEELS LIKE
keyboard
deep breath
thought break
dead end
and then…
the words sprint
in blinding
flash lightning
too quick
to comprehend
try to break it down
words of singular
splashes and
channels of dashes
that one unique line
of something sublime
poetical console
staccatos
inlets of fjords
announce
the square sum of
nothing
© Kim van Breda—20 December 2015
Back Creek Sounds
Rhythmic wave crescendos,
Like dynamic static of radios,
Tinkling and gurgling noises,
As liquid over rocks poises,
Ospreys shriek at laughing gulls,
Slapping water on slicing hulls,
Burping diesels add staccatos,
Winds strum mast-stay legatos,
Sails fill or flap by whispered pressure,
Bouys gong in the background with hauture,
As my toes on the sand go crunch,
Shouts my stomach, “Seafood for lunch”.
graying clouds gather
rain staccatos on hard ground
frogs plop in puddles
Copyright, October 3, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson
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