Swiftness Poems | Examples

BONDED STIFF

BONDED STIFF

Our love knows no swiftness;
Its tied and bowed in stiffness:-

Our life of love, is no played game;
Rather, it's an everlasting bond attained:-

May our love always be like a royal evening ball;
A loving affair desired and wished for, by one and all:-

May this precious bond between you and me, ever be,
A God-granted blessed bonding, deemed for eternity:-

Born For This

I’m  born a stream with winter’s thaw.
On swiftness from steep slopes I draw.
Beneath the sun, I gather steam.
With winter’s thaw, I’m born a stream.

I warmer grow as on I run.
I gather steam beneath the sun.
With river kin I’ll likely flow.
As on I run, I warmer grow.

I may grow wide; I may grow thin.
I’ll likely flow with river kin.
Bound for the south, I onward glide.
I may grow thin; I may grow wide.

A frothy kiss I’ll give sea’s mouth.
I onward glide, bound for the south
to oneness – I was born for this:
I’ll give sea’s mouth a frothy kiss.

Twenty Brief Springs

Take advantage of those non enduring things,
they are similar in swiftness to evanescent time:
it's the cleverest thief stealing your last dime,
who saves in an amber jar copper pennies?

Does youth only last for twenty brief springs?
Staring into the clearest mirror simply deceives:
that smooth face will no longer glow with beauty,
fine lines and wrinkles could appear after forty! 

Wonder why movies stars look younger than us?
It's not privilege or favoritism: it's the tons of money
that make miracles happen: while we turn green with envy;
don't be angry with yourself, avoid any unnecessary stress! 

Throw away the expensive cream jars, they create false images,
they can't give back the radiance of lost youth as believed;
Aphrodite knew that secret and kept it locked for endless ages,
Eros was her admirer and lover: no elixir was ever needed!

The Bustle of Time

A new day dawns,  
I’m welcomed into its embrace,
I journey its length and breadth,  
I search its depth.  
Time is in motion,
It reaches the end of its journey,  
Its continuum collapses.

I board a train,  
Twilight is its last station,  
Midnight is its final stop,
There are no delays,  
There are no obstacles, 
In the multitude of my thoughts,  
In the flow of my desires,  
I find myself at the final stop.

I stand before a portrait,  
The onus is mine to add my colours, 
With each brush stroke,  
With every hue,  
Time wanders,  
It tunnels through the elements,
A new day dawns,  
Its portrait lies before me.

My tardiness is not a delay,  
My swiftness is not speed.  
It’s a strange entity,  
A mysterious phenomenon,  
An enigmatic existence, 
Time brings us to the end of our journey,  
And takes us into the beyond.


January 28, 2024.

Whose Words are these Really

I read my words and laugh
For are they mine……..really?
They manipulate themselves into my typing hands
Before I can decipher whose words they are.
They come fast and hard.
My fingers are clicking with them.
Zapping them onto a white page with rapid swiftness.
Whose words are these? I ask.
My muse laughs.
She has me under her control.

Light that lights all lights

Line of Inquiry:
 “we look for that light eternal  
that does not come and go 
the screen upon which life plays 
cognised in staid stillness slow” - Unseeking Seeker



Let there be light
And the light was called day
And the darkness was night.
And the Lord showed the way 
On this screen called the Earth
Where our destiny lay
Heralding the birth
Of all that we know
Of sorrow and mirth
Of swiftness or slow
all of creation. 
Reflecting the glow.   
Eternal illumination.

Rudolph's Broken Leg

Santa's reindeer were in preparation,
training for the big occasion,
getting themselves in top condition
for their Christmas Eve expedition.

But on this particular Christmas,
Rudolph was experiencing pain and stiffness.
Santa worried about his fitness
and a noticeable lack of swiftness.

X-rays showed Rudolph had a leg fracture,
so he was temporarily put out to pasture;
and seeing as the winds were rather choppy,
Santa delivered presents in a flying jalopy.

Hopeless Movements

At dawn, when the sky smiles...
I bow, pray at length to seek.
If true, as God would have me;
At it, my swiftness should awake hope.

Where there seems none, my styles...
Possibly without remorse, though weak;
Cum certainty of what to be, such sea-
I swim through its boundless spell, off rope.

At noon, when the sky frown,
I race, hustle all seasons long...
If no, as fate could file my case;
Of time, my faith would halt war.

Why not give up, such stage me clown.
This won't be of tease, while still young...
Rather shall keep up, cum His grace-
Until I feel relieved; ease storm, offshore.

At night, while the sky beams...
I write, encode and decode my day;
If sure, lessons learnt propels thought.
For real, it engulf my mind's box

Through the night; many are dreams-
Of peace and war, fear and courage; gay...
Will I ever have to myself, what I sought?
Cum lot where lies mirthful stories, off clocks...

Their Last Moment Of Glory

This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.

The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.

Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.

I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.

Their Last Moment Of Glory

This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.

The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.

Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.

I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.

Albatross Feather in Jeopardy

Written: April 18, 2024

                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another atrocity: letting stone or lime tears slick.
A majestic sight—an albatross-nurturing chick.
Midway Island, where strings were hung.
Birds covet between land and sea for their young.

They saw a feast, a bounty to witness. 
Human waste of all kinds is not worth swiftness.
A dwarf chick gently waits till his parents return. 
A fragile bird wept, fleeing from an unseen spurn.

Below their skeptical gaze, the chick played. 
His parents, as warden angels, never strayed.
They opened their mouths and started to eat.
In agony, they wept, shaking as if life retreat.

Longing for a life, the birds once yearned. 
They began to sing their hymn of peril termed.
Survivors are clueless that men spread lethal flu.
With a split heart, I stand in shame, void, and blue.

Sans doubt, man is a fool—no care nor claim. 
A tender poise between empathy and blame.
Whoever enacts a crime will bear the shame. 
Is it too late for any of us who are aware to tame?

Eagle Swift

 Eagle Swift, My Conscience Uplifts
 Upshifts the Swiftness, It's Blissful, My Soul Drifts
 Solo Drifter, I Sail The Abyss
 One with the Quasars, I Scratch Off The Bucket List
 High Born, I Soar Like a Rocket Ship
 Where Tales Turn Legend, These Wings Are Destined
 I Believe and I Too Have a Dream
 Uncaged, I'm The Lion King
 I'm The Wild Thing
 Destined, Just Me and My Wild Steed,
 Like Days Of Old I Trod with Nobility
 In Grace, Honor and Chivalry
 In Fields like Romance that Blaze towards Destiny
 A Cosmic Reunion with my Greater Me,
 I Spread My Wings and Transform like a Butterfly
 Hawk Eyed, I Soar with Laser Precision Flight
 Dragon Sown Forged Of Fire
 I'm Opal Bold, Solar Storm Hardwired, 
 Purged by Friction Glistens a Diamond Intuition
 Heaven Rejoice,    In Truth I Have Risen

Alcedo Atthis

Kingfisher! Sculpturally shaped! Beam with a bold bright beak!
How splendidly your soft-strong somatic symmetry shines!
Awesome is the charm of your topaz eyes and rainbow quill.
Wondrous are your feet, tail, and poised plumage pattern designs.

Symbol of swiftness, prosperity, and agility
Fortune, patience, and abundance abide in your esse
Compassion, courtesy, and creative felicity
With each weather, season, and circumstance, you acquiesce

With paramountcy and persistence, you pitchpole from perch.
Which vaulter in this universe could fulfill such a feat?
Blue and orange! Moving motionless, like a sage, in search
Do you swingeingly oversee the lands-oceans-waves meet?

Infirm in form, you conform to any storm and transform
Is such nature, as though inborn, quilled as a human norm?

Wild Birds

I glide with agility and swiftness from azure height
With keen eyes intent on finding a morsel to devour
My screeching cries are echoed as blaring screams
On pinioned wings, I fly where hidden quarry lies

My shadow is feared by many on hills and fields
I watch tiny feet scurry in search of a place to hide
I am a red-tailed hawk, who's feathered plumage
is crimson as if painted by a master artist's hand

Songbirds stop trilling when I soar in the sky
Dreading they'd be on the menu as my next meal
My feathers have often made a fine poet's quill
I am beautiful and wild, revered, brazen and bold

With sharp talons, I am perched on an aspen branch 
Meadow grasses beneath me, I search with inspection
I am a bird of prey that some have labeled a 'raptor'
but I'm busy building a nest with the help of my mate.

Fades

Walking through the waters rough tide
Lifes light fades and you want to hide
As lifes current rushes you through
It's swiftness makes your coarse untrue
Put yourself around its next bend
Never knowing where it all will end
Swirling confusing wrapping your brain
Lost in the darkness of the hard pouring rain
Walking through the murky lifes river lost
To lose this dark race your souls the cost
To give up the long lonely lost fight
You step forever away from the life given light

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