swamped by vibrations crystallised as forms ~
we sense in all hearts, love’s benign bliss storms
I’m restless as everything being shoveled, gone, and lost.
I have enough gears leftover to store nerves.
And drastic guitar strings handed over to me.
The types of manic piano keys all over and over.
Shoveled, eaten, and swamped.
I’m restless as everything over there.
In the old pond with shiny things.
Algae coming to life.
Over there, crispy.
Whooshing.
I’m restless as the end of a gold skeleton.
Or a bobbing up and down coin.
I’m restless as a crunchy sound.
Guitar leaves.
I fell asleep somehow.
Shiny, restless, gone.
Just move your Arms and Legs! Do what you need to do... Take Action
- Echo ~ the witness who talked too much - quote by poet
a mournful echo
sounds swamped my pulsating heart -
do not repeat them
empty room - masonry wall
historic bells from gray peaks
To eat when hungry and sleep when sleepy,
at first sight sounds simple enough to do
but when swamped by thoughts, fearful and creepy,
we’re bemused by puzzles we need to sew,
so know not that peace graced on but a few.
Oh, to be a child again, free from strain,
frolicking carefree in the monsoon rain!
Speaking Your Mind
Every time you
don’t speak your
mind these things happen:
snails do
aerobics, flamingos update their
details on
important apps, palm trees spill
out Amish hats, combs beg to
eat
lemon pie, stools memorise
flame thrower literature, and
gravy animals, who live in
the clouds, help out
swamped midwives.
Paratroopers stealthily slide unnoticed,
chutes deployed, small blazes of white obscured by
fog that lingers lazily, til their numbers
cover the meadow…
Faster, faster, not just content to cover,
reinforcements filling in, words unspoken,
synchronized with perfect precision, ever
picking up tempo…
Occupation utterly overwhelming,
swamped defenses, raising a flag, surrender.
Long, the arm of conquering winter, brings a
lengthening shadow…
How do you feel about me,
What prevails now - hate, or indifference?
Or I’m too dimmed to be seen
Indistinguishable at the distance
In case you would like to know
How do I feel about you
I can’t describe it, but I can show
If you would let me to do
But you don’t like to reply
Anticipating there’s nothing new
You’ll hear, and maybe that’s why
The TV and facebook have you
Am I wrong, or right, if it matters
Tell me something you’d like me to hear
Before I get swamped with long letters
Come to see me, while we are here.
It's heartrending to lose a spouse
A very special woman who shares the house
With your body, your heart and your soul
It's very hard to feel losing your whole
Your being, everything you have
It's utterly sad and strange to feel that five
Of your best fingers are cut and numb
It's inconceivable to feel lost and dumb
For quite a while. Losing a darling spouse
Is like being swamped in a toxic niche
Full of bees and ants. A greedy leech
Has sucked up your blood and your mind
And your brain is not feeling too kind
It's painful to lose a wonderful spouse
Your world has turned upside down
You cannot smile. You cannot frown
Everything is different, even your house
Tears are flowing like a river in the summer
You feel hopeless and helpless. And it's somber.
Copyright © February 2020, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several poetry collections.
TRUE MEANING
Easter’s a time of faith at least for some
But others may just take it as a holiday
Its significance today is at risk of fading
Swamped with fancy gifts and parading
The word holiday is actually a holy day
The One having risen, again will come
Marietta Georgia the beginning
and the end of poetry soup as we
knew it today we are swamped by ads
investors buying web domains inventing
shenanigans amidst their very own
motives creating fake accounts all
under the same foundations gathering poets
to allow poems to be featured in anthologies
now is the time for all great poets to come
to the aid of their country to write or
not to write that is the question
It rained for 3 days,
drenching torrents plunged down
as if a dam had breached.
There was some local flooding
but by and large only minor damage
a lot of litter and flotsam though
‘sky wreckage’ some called it.
The butterfly house was swamped,
its netted walls were ripped ragged
by broken tree limbs,
the seams in the wooden roof
split apart and a wild,
wind-riding rain rode in.
Purple Admirals were beaten down
by the gusting blows,
then drowned.
Painted Ladies were murdered
their mangled decorative forms
no longer cosmetics.
Longwings no longer flew
but in death, swam limply
in the splashing puddles.
A disarray of broken wings
carpeted the deluged floor.
Somewhere in this caged house
sodden chrysalids sway upon fractured twigs;
eventually there will be fluttering wings,
but not here in this ruined shelter
were the air still drips wetly
onto unreceiving
and unmoving antennae.
Mirror mirror on the wall
Please tell me why I always fall
When I try to do something that will build me up
Then suddenly lose motivation and zeal for it all
So many pursuits were met halfway
I tried to learn skills but procrastination domes my way
Or suddenly I'm swamped with other responsibilities
And when I'm ready to go back, people have already gone far
When I look at my reflection what I see
Is a failing hypocrite starting back at me
People think I'm so smart and so put together
They don't know what burns underneath my sweater
I wish I could be easier on myself
And take things one step at a time
But with the way things are going
I can only feel peace with God by my side
swamped by illusions
immersed in delusion
a strange darkness
thoughts in confusion
‘tis the magical way
living light is caged
its pride demolished
by cravings upstaged
demi-gods powerful
choosing paths unjust
on falling from grace
turn thus to dust
a mere wisp of straw
can turn the tables
love alone is real
moral of all fables
27-February-2023
Estonia is a country on the shores of the Baltic Sea
the smallest country in Northern Europe
with a fifth season . . .
a predictable period after winter and before spring
that takes place every year
when flooding submerges forests, the land and homes
with miles and miles of vast moving water
Estonia's Soomaa National Park is a magical place
to experience this fifth season
using water highways knowing the danger
but with excitement
floating among the trees by canoe
in a drowned world
of swamped meadows and vast forests
where woodpeckers knock on trees
and flowers still poke out of the water
in this haunting landscape of Estonia's fifth season
and then, the water seeps away. . .
________________________
November 07, 2022
Poetry/Free Verse/Estonia's Fifth Season
Copyright Protected, ID 11-1499-667-07
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance L France
Written for the Premiere contest, The Fifth Season
sponsor, Anthony Biaanco, Judged 11/14/2022
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.