This late morning's high noon scaling, steeply-ascending, ragged herald
Hauls himself upwards into the roaring expanse of the dizzying sky
To chance upon this, might though his very soul should be imperiled,
When lording over which is constrained within a dispassionate, encompassing eye.
From the feathered throat abruptly pours such Mellifluous harmony
As, lifting higher and higher, he negotiates a ledge inside a wisp of
broken cloud;
Those rich, dulcet notes, more decidedly sweeter than any liquid honey,
Irresistibly flowing Earthwards... a continuous symphony of unparalleled sound.
His alone the rushing glory! His alone this almost unattainable niche!
For up here, rarified and raw, the air is breathless and sparse where thins.
Then the song fully enveloping the shrunken patchwork of fields beneath...
Whereon, delivering forth from bursting lungs, that final triumphant salvo
he heroically flings.
Your City
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seven Emerald Hills
Seven emerald hills rise steeply
From restless waters born of moving ice
Siblings of a greater peak
Lifting up their faces into rains of shrouded mists
Or bathed in welcomed sunshine
The First where stately mansion homes
Climbed to heights now holding healing hostels
Looking toward a Beacon,
Watching Rainier’s changing face,
Holding hands, across a valley cleft,
With the West where Alki shores
Welcomed the first footsteps of settlers
Looking across blue waters where ferries play at
Mistaken Magnolia blossoming with madrone
Not bowing to Queen Anne, counterbalanced,
Winking at Capitol, with shady streets
On a broad way above the lake
Looking north to find a learned Crown
Mourning Denny’s passing
Where offices now scrape the sky
Remembering a Yesler skid row, algorithms,
A pioneer square, a needle touching space
Slumbering in the shadows of a Sunset
Where seaplanes play with seagulls
In summer Seafairs and rain festivals January to December
Deep in Black Forest
lives a good-natured ghost
whose eyes are like Nebula
a blurry blue
He Slithers along
steeply falling terrain
where ravine-like dark valley
drops deadly low
Every Lunar night
near Cascading waters
He camps to sing by the grave
of his lost girl
Serpentine river
dragging along cold air
gushes forth Myriad rifts
roars with the ghost
All through the white night
he wails, whispers with Lilt
at dawn he disappears with
Phosphorous smile
As the tide retreats,
the shore unveils a tapestry
of deep garnet and crushed ruby sand,
spread before a mosaic of polished rocks.
Towering above,
the jagged cliffs rise steeply,
their weathered faces carved
by relentless waves.
Ancient glyphs emerge,
whispering timeless secrets
to the ever-listening ocean below.
WORDPLAY
Scores of work to read and think deeply
Stores of enthusiasm can reduce steeply
Snores are heard and can attract curses
Snorts from a few less tolerant nurses
Sports offer very different entertainment
Shorts that sometimes lack containment
Shirts bearing logos of sponsors’ brands
Shires with accents nobody understands
Spires of churches that need renovation
Spares at the ready for every occasion
Spores of inspiration should be heeded
Shores with grass dunes, never weeded
Shares in publishing may remain frozen
Stares received if no works are chosen
Starts and endings complete all verses
___________________________________________________________
As I sat ...
in slight immersion
amongst a pond
of varied sprites
depth rippling tryst
trend simple reeds
in distance fair
partitioned pure
claimed by three
spartans affair
the mere sight of me
sacrificed precious lamb
midst circle of life
selective attends
their genteel swim
o'er cupped fingers
a ringless hand
begs of pleasure
this glorious realm
enriched am I
steeply blessed
the rewards of privilege
the shallow benefits
their minutia smiles
in that pond
... as I sat.
Mercy dragged fate around our alley,
a path taken before, failed, but who cares ?
two lucky losers,
who determined the ending,
in the precipice of nothing.
you and I were children in the world,
non-existent in love stories,
to keep you crouched, easier for me
unaffected by the flow of gossip.
Satiety in you
Time never promised,
my being enjoyed you even in sleep.
But,
the lack of luck remained loyal to my body,
every step in the path of growth,
kept me away ,
you weren’t a need .
The interval between your creature and mine was losing power,
we become too grand for the world,
they all talked about us
never once mentioned love.
to be achieved in life, I wouldn't say,
we will stay young with experience , forever.
the alleys never joined ,
steeply they passed,
without punctuation.
created spirals of abstract colors,
that burst from time to time,
when my eye caught your eye through the alleys of the city.
Dulcet scented cherries peak so sweetly
From the hewn branches where they stem
Frothy in flowers splendor perched steeply
Above the nimbus mists swelling magically within
My heart is pink with flowering buds in view
Shining upon eyes, twinkling with frosted newborn dew
Glistening and bringing joy that tenderly renews
Each delicate promise of nature gleaming through
This fairy’s loft and hideaway of heaven
Gathering with love’s passionate scented spray
Wafts and weaves in dream filled expression
The notes of Spring on this radiant sunny day
This feast of smell, this ambrosial confection
I view to impose as my heavenly perfection
October 17, 2022
Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Steeply, a mingling of the breaths occurring,
With ashes of raw pearls that were burned,
Preciseness is masked by contrasts of shading,
Pallid and toxic myths reap the rot observed.
With ashes of raw pearls that were burned,
After the ecstasy spell, the disillusion dwindling,
Pallid and toxic myths reap the rot observed,
Is it true that we are completely cognizing?
After an ecstasy spell, the disillusion dwindling,
Nirvana signs the deal for the crux forum,
Is it true that we are completely cognizing?
Being a slice of the universe's delve is awesome.
Nirvana signs the deal for the crux forum,
Preciseness is masked by contrasts of shading,
Being a slice of the universe's delve is awesome,
Steeply, a mingling of the breaths occurring.
Written: May 15, 2022
Bleeding hazel eyes of infinite azure,
Diamond deluge in sapphire shadow,
Atrocities handled a fractious austere,
Smothered ashes of guilt and sallow.
Diamond deluge in sapphire shadow,
Heartbeats synced to cosmic sound,
Smothered ashes of guilt and sallow,
Six feet beneath the ruby rose, crowd.
Heartbeats synced to cosmic sound,
Rose petals of heaven blowing bliss,
Six feet beneath the ruby rose, crowd,
Hapless bodies plunging into the abyss.
Rose petals of heaven blowing bliss,
Inside a cobalt blue flowering bloom,
Hapless bodies plunging into the abyss,
Spasms steeply mingled with the fume.
Inside a cobalt blue flowering bloom,
Atrocities handled a fractious austere,
Spasms steeply mingled with the fume,
Bleeding hazel eyes of infinite azure.
Written: May 10, 2022
Marvel of fond Mother-Nature,
Carefully carved nomenclature!
Mountains fold hands toward blue skies,
Where stars flutter, like, butterflies!
Water-waves warmly wash the feet,
Fleets on sleets meet around and greet!
High, steep, sharply molded boulders,
Stand in accord holding shoulders...!
Solitary human standing,
On a broken cliff crash-landing!
A bird flying around its edge,
To build her nest, finding no hedge!
An owl dwelling in a small hole,
Lost as though with a restless soul!
Bats, waiting for the silent night,
Alike, are, bleak views of cliff- sight...!
Suffering writs of erosion,
Churned by chisels of corrosion!
Carved, compiled, combined, conditioned,
Into wild bird-beaks protruded!
Steeply, slippery, surfaces,
Sloppy, soapy, still, circuses!
Cliff has its captivating charm,
That until disturbed does no harm...!
11 January 2022
C Form - Couplet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
ON THE SOUL
My personality has begun a crossing
a crossroad that will open up the truth;
it will link the past to the future.
A voyage that will lead me to a very dark place!…..
…...of my must be forgotten youth!
A deceptive tranquillity is falling upon me deeply;
The dawn will appear very soon;
bringing the unresolved misfortunes of yesteryear’s anxieties steeply.
Two hearts I do have one filled with the present unsatisfied;
the other slowly deteriorating with the failed past…..
…..mingled together forever petrified!
There are no boundaries what life will do to me unexpectedly;
it will sink to the deepest descend;
into corruption;
desecrate and violate time effectively!
Death is drawing nearer…..
…..closer and closer appreciated;
and out of the weakened body,
exhausted with expectations,
never to be realised decimated!
Consequences….
every reason is hidden,
all outcomes utterly displayed understandably so foolish.
Once she had blossomed, a bold, independent spirit, educator, wife, mother, grandmother; now she is barely hanging on.
I sit beside her bed holding a limp, withered hand in mine. A hand which, when younger and stronger, had drawn colored pencil illustrations of stories she told me about life in far away seacoast villages. Barely outlined fishing boats, sails unfurled, dancing on white waves, fading into the distance; village houses with steeply pitched roofs to shed heavy winter snows; all drawn in a few shades of blue. A collection of those drawings, now framed, are hanging on my walls.
My gaze wanders out the window of her semi-private room, into a small courtyard where a pink dogwood is dropping the last of its spring blossoms. A small branch is broken and by a thin strip of bark, it is barely hanging on.
Walking up a steeply-ancient cobblestreet, old witchwomen observe
The young man passing, sweating blood.
He has his cross to bear,
His words to justify,
Betraded for silver
His friends to forgive,
His life to forget.
A tangle of barbthorns is his armour;
He rules over death:
Looks well in a tomb!
Vinegar is his wine,
Children are his mentors,
Criminals are his company
His life was led according to his favourite adage:
"Do unto others are you would like them to do unto you".
We drove down the road. I saw such wondrous things. My eyes took in the steep sided grassy valley. In the bottom was a sparkling river. Sun reflected on the water which flowed over rocks. The small river had cut the valley. No more than a stream.
It wound lazily, climbed steeply in places and was powerful in size. They said Vikings settled here. I see no evidence. The local village was set up by Danes. They named it, their legacy. Both vocal and in stone.
Looking up from the river, up the valley side, I see a tree. A huge one by the road. The base must be twenty feet thick. And two hundred high. It's a Danish tree. Transported here as a seed by soldiers. A thousand years old.
I've seen such trees in Denmark. In that tranquil little country, the highest places are trees. There are no hills or mountains there. And only one small two metre waterfall there. Nothing like this stunning one. The Danish invaders must have loved this land.
I want us to stop and sleep under the tree. To hike up the river. Our time here is so brief. We have other sites to see. Will they be magnificent like these?
Picnic by Jimmy Boom Semtex
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