At night soil dreams in silent technicolour, peaceful and alone.
It exhales gently without the trampling of mankind snapping
roots; without the world above and its usual stampede.
Branches notice it first, having time to stretch,
to watch stars appear; time to open bark and bow wide,
sprawling and luscious. Away from daily smokes and steams,
the sky is a black mosaic of golden shards.
Rivers lap, sigh upstream. Birds fly in a chorus,
circling in trills below the moon’s pupil-white skin.
Fields are resting their patchwork bodies, the tissue of
grass sewn from the earthly vapours of oak, birch, ash.
Nature’s legs grow stubbly at night, wild and unshaven.
In the morning a rabbit stands on its haunches, saluting the sun.
Categories:
stubbly, animal, appreciation,
Form: Free verse
in mirror of truth
razor shaved my stubbly mien,
superb, pride and pomp...
Categories:
stubbly, allusion, creation, extended metaphor,
Form: Senryu
The soil is dreaming in a silent technicolour,
peaceful and alone. It exhales, gently without the tragic
trampling of mankind snapping roots, without the world above
and its usual stampede. Gone. Branches noticed it
first - slowly having time to stretch, to watch clouds;
time to open their barks wide and bows sprawling and luscious,
away from smokes and steams and smogs. The sky is blue,
clear. Rivers are lapping, sighing. Birds fly in a chorus, circling
in trills below the moon’s pupil-white skin - seen at night.
Fields are resting their patchwork bodies, their tissues of
grass and pores sewn from the vapours of oak, birch and ash.
Nature’s legs are stubbly now, growing hair left wild and unshaven.
In the morning, rabbits stand tall on haunches saluting the sun.
Categories:
stubbly, analogy, animal,
Form: Free verse
I remember
a stubbly cheek prickling my lips,
a strong hand holding me protectively when I was small.
I remember
a spanking for eating mud pies,
hearing stories of when he was young
lying in the grass under the stars.
I remember
strong arms wrapped about
my trembling body, rescuing me.
I remember
a strong, wise, quiet guide
always there when I needed him.
I remember
my father.
Previously Published: Shattered Moonbeams 2016
Categories:
stubbly, childhood, father, growing up,
Form: I do not know?
Suddenly Swans
ZITS….that plague
eradicated
soft stubbly itch
faint beard
announcing itself.
They were…..once
my sister’s
pig-tailed, bratty friends
now gliding past
in nuanced elegance
…..suddenly swans
©4/5/2019
Suddenly Swans Poetry Contest
Maureen McGreavy - sponsor
Categories:
stubbly, growing up,
Form: Free verse
Dreams of nonsense drip from my weary eyes like candle wax. The shimmering full moon reflects off my coffee cup as I stagger through the predawn mist. Remnants of the night are written profoundly within the deep pillow imprints on my forehead. My messy hair and stubbly face greet me in the toothpaste spattered mirror. Twenty three long minutes until that annoying alarm makes itself known. And the cool, dark morning begins again. The TV flickers in the dark living room; local news of a new murder. It's these quite moments before the roar of finding shoes, backpacks, and homework... Those few moments sitting outside with my coffee in the cold moonlight... Trying to decipher last nights incoherent dreams... That moment of fuzzy clarity... Caught between sleep and chaos... Ah, my precious mornings...
Categories:
stubbly, morning,
Form: Free verse
Billy no-mates sat alone on the bench in the playground
Along came Johnny no- friends, perched next to him and frowned
The other kids ignored Billy, he was weird
They ignored Johnny, he had a stubbly beard
They didn’t think that Billy felt lonely
If they knew ....if only
If they included him in a game
They’d realize he was the same
He wasn’t cool - so what?
Didn’t really matter a jot
Johnny was ill a couple of years
No longer with his peers
So he was a little older
He carried his poems in a folder
His poems were poignant and haunting
Poetry was easy but talking was daunting
Billy could be you or me
Johnny could be Dan or Lee
No-one should feel alone
We are not made of stone
Categories:
stubbly, bullying, pain,
Form: Lyric
According to ‘her’ that has
To be obeyed
The hairs on my chin
Cannot be shaved
She likes the look and
Definitely the feel
Of the soft little hairs now
Part of the deal
Closer inspection certainly
Revealed more
Two little whiskers popped out
Of one pour
A ‘Double Wonga’ she shouted
With glee
Then foraged around but
Couldn’t find three
Growing a Goatee was
Risky for sure
It’s a prickly business she
Likes to endure
But the stubbly look and
Itchy sensation
Were impossible to handle, in
The beard revelation
So in a moment of weakness
And utter despair
I reached for my razor, and shaved off
This hair
Looking back, I begin
To wonder!
Should I have done it sooner.....as I look
10 years younger
Contest: ‘On any subject’
Dated 28.3.17
Categories:
stubbly, age, hair, image, vanity,
Form: Rhyme
Apparently it’s a p**is that makes a man these days
Never mind the testosterone that fuels an angry craze
A testosterone filled vag**a made of real human flesh
Seems way better than an estrogen filled p**is in a dress
This muted feeble phalange is a danger to our most revered
And a rugged hairy man-looking "girl" is never to be feared
People feel safe around an anxious displaced bearded “woman”
-Especially in private while getting ready and peeing in the can-
Far more comfortable than a meek soft tender "man" in heels
Applying makeup, fixing her hair, and living her own ideals
It seems as though people are allowed to be people these days
Which is fine as long as no one is comfortable in their own ways
And protection of the righteous ones (especially those with green eyes)
Supersedes the basic rights of a lesser class lacking moral tithes
So in that case, send the angry misplaced stubbly “woman” instead
Our daughters can handle that much more than a p**is walking dead.
Categories:
stubbly, abuse, conflict, confusion, discrimination,
Form: Burlesque
I believe
the trees have
changed their shadows--
overnight.
They rock, they rock,
they rock and sway...
When a winter wind came
and blew all their leaves away.
Like nature's x-ray on
in the middle of the day,
you can see skies of blue
sneaking through.
Since the wind exposed
their stems of stubbly sheaves--
we seen at night, that stars
have replaced the crunchy leaves.
They sway and twinkle,
like owl eyes in the breeze.
There is much more than magic
up in my winter trees!
Categories:
stubbly, stars, tree,
Form: Rhyme
Ugly Dolls
Have a doll
Her name is Pearl
She is not a pretty girl
Nose is stubby
Eyes are gray
Clothes are old
Hair stubbly hay
She’s not pretty
Clothes aren't smart
Her crooked smile
Has hooked my heart
Categories:
stubbly, children, life,
Form: Rhyme
It is always after days like this one,
of a kind of proverbial snake chasing
its tail, its form flawless, its strength in
numbers of its friends all rolling together
carrying me to the end of a long day,
the end being where I started, just as
dark, my breath as clear on the concrete
platform as it was twelve hours before,
my insides still a Colombian neck tie.
But I am still one hour and at least two
languages away from there, here in the
bar car, my head against the stretch window
as the Norman countryside smears by at
200 kph, a drop of casis stirring towards a
mandarin horizon fuller than my plastic cup of scotch,
tilting with each banking of the train only to
level out sharply seconds later, the minimum
time required - I suspect - for the stubbly
driver to refresh his senses with a good chuckle,
which would surely be more
frequent if they let me ride up there with him,
playing "I Spy" with our eyes closed,
testing the emergency brake and
scaring cars at crossings with the horn.
Categories:
stubbly, business, me,
Form: Free verse
Once there stood a tree so Grand
With yellow flowers and confidence,
She bent and swayed with each day
So eventually I came her way.
Her branches grew so very strong
Around the small and broken one
She guided me through those trees
Taking each step so wonderfully
The tree so strong stood watching me grow spiritually
Then somehow withered woefully
I did not notice her go away,
Unaware of her despair, I marched Onwards
Without warning,she became tangled with vines,
so painfully
Now I see the tree you used to be
You were so strong and we did belong
But now you’re gone, oh! What went wrong?
That tree is my mother I followed so close
And God made her strong and we did belong
To someone so wonderful, but someone else could see
The happiness that came to me,
so he took her away from me!
Though one branch hangs uncomfortably
My tree tries to grow stubbly
While God lifts my head brisk fully
I know in my heart, me and my family
Will go on serving him faithfully
But deep in my heart I can’t help but see
The pain of loosing that one, once, Grand tree.
Categories:
stubbly, faith, family, mother, god,
Form: Personification