A sign, slanted rays in mid-morning hour.
Opening of tomb
with power.
Before it spoke, was hidden in tree’s womb -
scar of wood,
in tandem two parts.
Much like the sign on Calvary - I AM
stained on splintered wood…
twining hearts.
Man’s substitute - in the thicket a ram.
Matthew 28:6, He Has Risen -
a sign that believes.
A prison
of florals, eggs, butterflies and green leaves.
A feast to
the soul of my eyes.
The circular pattern - the ring of life.
Tulips royal hue.
Wings arise.
What all long for - sign speaks of afterlife.
Most poignant the sign above bleeding lamb;
mine is uplifting.
Pounding bam -
character etched in wood, in this gifting.
A debate
of stencilled brush-light -
daffodils - orange and yellow, curved leaves -
blue-green shades, a fete.
Future bright.
Open eyes to the sign - this one believes.
2/28/2023
Write an Ode
Sponsor: Jeff Kyser
Categories:
stencilled, christian, imagery,
Form: Ode
Cruelty danced 'cross his stencilled mustache
Sparks of Evil flashed from his roving eye
A wicked Sneer curled 'round his too-thin lips
His fingers like claws bespoke a master spy
Trench-coat pulled tight 'gainst the pounding rain
Stealthy his gait down the dark narrow lane
Alas! Two bullets lodged in his fiendish heart
Real life's not Hollywood, Mr. Humphrey Bogart
Categories:
stencilled, dark, evil, film, irony,
Form: Rhyme
the topped her desire with a cherry on the cake
icing sugar crux of the biscuit cusp of pure delight
candles had outgrown the sweet surface of pastry
but she cherished her life just the same evermore
tasted age and radiant light with no shadow of doubt
the older she got she esteemed pleasure and freedom
revered memories and sheltered her many vagaries
as mere kaleidoscopic reflections and mosaic change
tapestry and canvas had altered but not the tenderness
with which she dreamt fantasized and painted the path
she felt at ease with the easel mixed pastels on pallet
tasted whatever tickled her fancy narrated her story
smacked her lips and decoupaged poetry in images
adorned colours patterns and texture with meaning
beyond words and calligraphy stencilled on life
one might wonder what gave her unwavering strength
to find inner voice and dialogue to express emotions
to blend them with reason and the magic of her mind
why was she so blessed and cosseted despite her fears
a glance into her lover’s eyes responded unquestioned
31st March 2021
Writing Prompt - Cherish - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Constance La France
Categories:
stencilled, imagination,
Form: Free verse
Yesterday I followed a trail
of coffee beans stencilled into
the contours of Anouk’s dress:
tapioca coloured lips serenaded
coral and mustard tweed, near
the surface of the Java Sea.
A boat was anchored:
a silhouette of Noah’s Ark swayed
to the tempo of her undulating tapestry.
The silver vessel glistened as my
reflection met its gaze; she bore
the weight of this loyal talisman
above the space where her
heart should have lived: she was
clothed in an aura of allegory.
Categories:
stencilled, art, imagination,
Form: Free verse
A Forgery of such style
In a touch shall call,
again, to sigh and fall.
To the Ageless Jazz leap,
'round midnight
A Generique Portrait
Consumed out of Love
Never wasting their pretentious time,
Claim to reveal your elite taste
True colours with bile chased
Poloroid of Authentic appearance
Easy to Fake
They talk all TS, Magic lanterns and
Michaelangelo
By public confession in Adoration of Dr Kaligari, The Somnambulist and stencilled spirals
That early editing, Knocking cells on continuity or giving the audience creative control in
image's connections. Montage from Intellectual graphic matching of Codename Saboteurs,
Features fading to their namesake. Emotional etched through out Vertov's Working
Documentary (“The Kinetic eye”? Following Moscow's Day by the people , early stop
motion as he explored Moving Image , Back when Trains sped at the audience .
Between these lines Hopefully a syllable address
of modest articulation.
For the Outsider , Crafting World by his Blend of Diction..
Categories:
stencilled, art, history, imagination, life,
Form: I do not know?
Behind the barricade of books and papers,
In the earthy rise of espresso grinding,
Misty jets and the steaming milk,
Lavish scents and aromas black and silk;
Until the senses swim in their filters,
Percolated with velveteen sound and vision,
The caffeine palpitates from sip to vein,
Condensation accrues on the stencilled pane.
Across the babble and bubble of prose
Quoted and blown like froth from the cups,
Tinkling silverware, china rapping,
Rose red nails upon cedar-wood, tapping.
When the smile breaks from a private jest,
Or something her cellphone lover said,
Like the sun coming out in a rain-forest mist
Lips of a goddess that beg to be kissed;
I feel like a trespasser, a casual voyeur,
Yet my gaze cannot leave her Brazillian eyes,
Americano heat flares in my heart suddenly,
And I wish, how I wish, she were smiling for me.
Categories:
stencilled, life, love, passion, sad,
Form: Verse