Stalactite Poems | Examples

a stalactite gleams

a stalactite gleams
black water drips
the only sound

Bow To Me

A genie's lamp cannot compare,
To smoke awoken from my breath,
Slithered out in ancient swear,
Unshackled life from sudden death.

Hear me now in brazen bond,
Bow to me, before now still,
From truth ye once had to abscond,
In fevers, shaken by silent will.

From my hands,
Whose neurons lick,
The lightening to the mind.
Pineal guide to beguile,
Beneath the feet: the lands.

The tides, the sands, the echo chambers,
Stalactite caverns, incisors drip,
Chomping sedentary angers,
Stalagmite joys equip. 

Crickle, crackle,
Fire burn,
Electroluminosity, 
Cackle at the broken shackle,
Gargantuan pre-ponderosity.

Lexical endorphins breach,
The code of dialect,
Yet encrypt in empty preach,
These passwords left unchecked.

Anandamide is left to hide,
Before celebrities of bliss,
Confused by knowledge ever wide,
By eyes unknown, remiss.

Never mind,
My mind's unkind,
To those whose cerebellum lacks,
The able to unravel fable,
From facts I've meant for find.

Bow to me,
Not you, myself,
Dear reader if you chance,
Occipital, cortexical,
Step in languid dance.

I Will Pay You For Some Words

Serendipity, pollywog, persnickety, lemon, hog and peach
For these words I like to use I will give you six cents each.
Onward and upward, supercalifragelisticalidocious I like too.
Feldspar, polka dot, sapphire, nonsensical, jubilation to name a few.
Writing poetry gives me the opportunity to play other special words.
And others I like- like candelabra, stalagmite, stalactite and blackbirds.
Many times, I wake up at three a.m. hearing lines of a poem in my head.
I wonder if this will continue after I am supposed to be dead,

Halloween Harvester

In Halloween week once the days have turned dark
He lurks where the lamplight cannot leave it’s mark
And late night dog walkers whose dogs do not bark
All steer a wide path as he harvests the park

By day he is nought but a grass covered mound
But a light in the night would show flat level ground
His nocturnal quarter a shady enclave
And there he will wait for the dim…. or the brave

This giant whose mouth is a ravenous cavern
To vacuum up strollers too long in the tavern
Each rushing home to an ill-tempered wife
He fillets their bones with no cleaver or knife

His yawn reveals hundreds of stalactite teeth
His tongue is as rough as a storm ravaged reef
And with hunger sated he shall not be found
As he rests for a year as a grass covered mound


15 October 2022
Contest: 12 - 16 lines, Scary Halloween
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin

Stalagmite

Never have I felt the sun shine
Or heard blowing wind speak
Within this cavern I align
Frozen in stalactite confine
I dream drips of dew drops unique
Formed by the sun I seek

One of the countless stalagmite
Protect the cavern floor
Facing our northern brothers height
Waiting here unmoving, my plight
Made of their drops, solid to core
Yet I want to be more

Not to be still rock formation
Dependent of their scrap
To grow on in bright elation
Not in this darkest damnation
Not to feel like nature's mishap
To feel caught in a trap

I could be flora lush and green
Pure dew on fragile leaves
Only my wildest roots unseen
Branches with elements convene
Reaching for solar rays achieves
Reprieves by shadow thieves

I’ll wait for giving’s from above
Fall to our rounded tops
Our centuries of growth thereof
To petrify, not push or shove
Wishing this muddy water swaps
With fresh gleaming dew drops

Imploring Divine Wisdom

My Lord,
I pray to You, 
You, who are my eternal stalactite, 
Imploring Your divine essence 
To let Your precious drops of 
Wisdom,
Upon my craving for knowledge soul,
One after the other, to fall

For

My earthly stalagmite,
With the passing of time,
Layer after layer of experience and learning,
Towards 
Your heavenly heights to
Rise

Thus

One blessed day,
Your celestial truth better to understand

So

I to walk with faith onto your path of light,
Erring no more!  
 







© Demetrios Trifiatis
        28 May 2021

Have Been Crying For Bryan

are in a pickle
money down failed to trickle
chopped up with cycle

had been requester
of who would be a tester
about sequester

God never provoke
thinks our job is a big joke
saved me from a stroke.

went to sleep last night
then woke up bushy and bright
tailed quite a sight
(became a stalactite)
(went out and flew kite)
(be nice guy I might)
(of breakfast took bite)

God will save our soul
bring back to Him is His goal
my heart away stole.

have some sins to spare
various vaccine shall share
for us they did care

learned new language
when you will much anguism
in always languish

overcome is goal
suffering did take its toll
God pleas make me whole

an opposing view
either accept or refuse
has been current news

we had so much fun
but now those days are all gone
past away would run

from us he did leave
and for we will grieve and grieve
in God we believe

sins God will remove
which will cause things to improve
us he did behove

for Bryan Have Been crying

We will love Bryan
great person no denying
for him are crying

Winter Haiku

geese migrating south
heading for warmer climates ~
honk and hink farewell 

white frost at daybreak 
sparkles as the sun rises ~
warm breath creates fog

an ice blizzard blows
weaving through the forest trees ~
white carpet of snow 

moisture and cold air
forming ice on window glass ~
ice flower bouquet 

water drips freezing
a tapering mass of ice ~
limpid stalactite 

cross or wreath made from
aquifoliaceae ~
placed at the graveside



Written 17th October 2020.

Melting

Melting
by Michael R. Burch

Entirely, as spring consumes the snow,
the thought of you consumes me: I am found
in rivulets, dissolved to what I know
of former winters’ passions. Underground,
perhaps one slender icicle remains
of what I was before, in some dark cave—
a stalactite, long calcified, now drains
to sodden pools whose milky liquid laves
the colder rock, thus washing something clean
that never saw the light, that never knew
the crust could break above, that light could stream:
so luminous, so bright, so beautiful ...
I lie revealed, and so I stand transformed,
and all because you smiled on me, and warmed.

Spelunking 2

upon entering
the cave space
the air became
strangely warmer
heavy wetness
created a single
stalactite
thickly dripping
down naturally

the deeper 
i sunk 
it seemed
dank
and
darker
with only 
a head 
lamp

the room
dampened
and divided
i decided
just then
a trembling
tremor
turned
me

around
but knew
i would come
back 
again
and
again
and
again

Secret Caverns of Mexico

My cavern bursts with bittersweet aura
— like globose berries, a cluster of tints.
The secret place — its musk, amidst the flora,
a limited conquest of feet — their prints.

Excitement rocks — I wade in hidden space.
My helmet light — it swims above my eyes.
The shadows wet, the adventurous ace.
The winding walls will never brush the skies.

The natural deep dark, unharnessed hush.
Us tourists kneel — the prayer within the calm.
The stalactite and stalagmite - time’s crush.
The pleasing whim — underground cave a psalm.

In seven hours se la explora.
My cavern bursts with bittersweet aura

6/7/2019
Nature Scene-Orphan Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor - Dale Gregory Cozart

se la explora - it is explored

Fishing Time

the still lake 
stretches like cellophane
as night fast nudges light

bees buzz and rush 
then switch the mute switch,
time oozes like treacle 
or an iced stalactite slowly
stratifying in secret caves

the stick float suddenly stills
nippling the surface with red,
as whirlpools weave wavelets
then gently lap and loosely laze

a pregnant pause pulsates
as line tightens and magenta
tongue tip swallows silently

slowly into the surging mystery 
misted by laced moss 
dressed in silk gowns. 

Yet beneath the surface
like Excalibur shimmering
silver, a fish breaks 
the lilting lake.

In the Cavern of My Heart

I, the stalagmite
You’re the stalactite, and I
Waiting you to fall

Frozen Inn

Upon the shores of the fourth of eight,
Lakes locked in links in a damned river chain,
Lives a wooden edifice upon this straight,
Of mutated water which wades in its own rain.

‘Tis an Inn which watches the wrath of time,
A witness of what does unravel,
Since 1896 its gaze has seen peace and crime,
Unfold from what’s built upon from beneath its breast of gravel.

Dripping sticks of a ticking clock’s cuckoo click,
In winter, stalactite icicles form a frenzy of frozen fever,
Whose seasonal trends descend from gravity’s tricks,
From the rooftops of this haunted home of the nonbeliever.

Perpetual Darkness

On my first spelunking excursion with a few friends
I got separated from the group, and hysteria quickly overtook me.
The cave led to a dank cavern, and when I lit a match, I could see
a kaleidoscope of colors reflected in the stalactite encrusted ceiling.

Looking down, it seemed there was nothing but perpetual darkness,
and chaotic thoughts raced through my mind.
Suddenly I heard a cacophony of screeches and clicks,
clamoring towards me from the bowels of the Earth.

At that moment, it felt like the apocalypse had arrived,
and I half expected to see a hoard of demons rushing to devour me.
Cringing in fear, I felt the sting of a thousand bat wings hit my face
as they swarmed past me stealing my breath as I soiled my pants.

Terrified, I screamed like a little girl
in a state of panic, petrified with fear.
My friends heard my pitiful cries,
and a chorus of snickers and laughs proceeded my rescue.


(Free Verse)


9/20/2017

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