Tapering Poems | Examples

Welcome To The Serenity Sail

Outside in the barn one late summer eve  
a seaman toiled until wee hours of night 
Solid rock surrounded by wood and nail 
just the right size for "The Serenity Sail" 
She lit an old candle by the window, 
recalling sweetly their brave adventures   
Back in the days when they were young 
water was life and love was pure gold; 

Over by the lawn an old weathered sailboat 
sat waiting, for one more vigorous glide   
"Lets take her out " he said as he toiled,       
curving the wood and tapering to a point. 
That night they slept in the boat like kids,     
huddled under a blanket stitched with stars.  
Tasting the ocean on her lips he sighed,  
"Join me !" he said as she giggled, awhile.

How the echo filters reality

It creeps up on me early morning
and again late afternoon
a microcephalic shadow,
almost the length of a football pitch,
Land of the giants view

My childlike head is miles 
away and dwindling,
constantly deflating 
Proteus syndrome echoes 
back through generations
crossing time zones too

Elongated diffraction
casts a very long shadow,
tapering reality
Low sun dysmorphia
projects a reflection of me,
A filtered perspective
revealing my only truth

Those beans I threw away 
yesterday were not magic
No golden goose lives atop the stalk
just a grotesque shell,
and one giant (yoke)
flattening all potential

I try look away 
but as always 
a grain of sand 
blocks my view 

Come chop me down,
flinch as I fall
Step over my shadow
you’ll need
(seven league boots)
But most of all,
no fixed roots!

Revelation

All morning
the river wore a thick fog
along its length, until 
a great looming shape emerged,
tall, gliding almost soundlessly
towards me, becoming the bow 
of a ship parting the fog, 
escorted by two tug boats 
churning the water,
the deep throb of their diesel
engines sending a shudder
through the air. 

The sheer wall
of the ships hull slowly passed,
tapering to a stern and trailing
a wheeling throng of seagulls
in its wake, their bright wings
catching a column of sunlight
that had suddenly broken through 
the fog, freeing what was there
hidden in the unseen
to come forth into the known.

Angelic

“Stealing our breath, you came down to us with angelic grace and you keep holding us under your magic spell” ~ By Poet

A precious little angel is born to us.
Our first grandchild, a bundle of joy,
Sent down from heaven, a blessing!

One look at her cherubic face
Made our hearts race in joy.
She looked at me with wide open eyes,
As if affirming a bond long established.
As if telling me, “Grandma, I am by your side,
To fulfil your yearning for a daughter
To fill the vacuum, you have long been feeling”.

With wonder and joy, we gazed at her angelic face,
- her tiny hands with long tapering fingers,
- her tender feet with cute little nails,
and her parted little lips that quivered to tell a tale.

Baby, you are fresh like the morning dew,
Beautiful like a fairy, 
And fragrant like an opening flower.
You push your way like light seeping through,
Into our hearts and thoughts, day in and out!

Sweet one, we cuddle and hold you, 
Close to our heart and thoughts,
And entreat God the Almighty to take care of you,
To bring pride and hope to your dad and Mom,
And hold the hands of your aged grandparents!

Final Word

Tapering to a point
time pierces the veil
Unharvested moments
a gardener’s tale  
Dug from the furrows
a voice has been freed
Whose final word spoken  
—eternity’s seed

(Septa R5: June, 2023)

Hey Ho

Persuade me otherwise
But it began as an accident
Fission of a product of a single incident
With fate sealed, hoped it’ll turn out prudent
I, the aftermath, with a seal sans consent
Then came ululations, in pretense to inaugurate my arrival
Pampered, nursed with velvet hands, my presence was primal
As the days spun backwards, promises turned to fables
Soft nursing hands withdrew, center-stage took squabbles
I thought I’ll be handed a manuscript
Bearing tricks through the life’s loco swift
Lonely and lost in the midst of the Congo jug
Location locus pure plug and chug
With no direction`s aide memoir
And in intermittent demur
Am tapering and wading through the hazy
At times choosing wrong and ending messy
Knee-deep and neck-deep in trouble I wallowed
For the one trick whispered to me and I pillowed
Its never late for fresh start, not stitched to a single road
Under the tidal wave I’ll spring overboard
From mud, I’ll shower clean and I’ll glee
From fortunes shall I not flee
If you see me not ramble
Am not out to gamble

The White Cockatoo

Far below,
a solitary,
white cockatoo
is flying along the valley floor.
It seems lost, separated 
from its flock.
It turns
this way and that
as if following some
scrambled map printed
on its brain. It is so small
and insignificant
set against the immensity
of these mountains.

I can just make out
the ragged notes of its cry
carried through
the deep hush walled
along its way. I hear
alarm and fear woven
into its constant call.
Now, it is getting further away.
I try to hold the sound's
thin tapering thread
by cupping my ear,
but now there is only
the whisperings 
of nearby trees.

Its stark, white,
flapping form
is growing smaller
and fainter as it tacks
into the darkening reaches
of the afternoon.
A tiny, blurred speck
hesitates, flickers briefly,
then is gone.
I stand for a while
as shadows thicken
and fill with cold,
my eyes transfixed
on the point of its going,
letting it go
to fly with almost all
of my life.

Delusion To Illumination

I or let’s say we, perceive outer form,
till feeling within, bliss magnetism warm.

Illusions seen are but an ego ruse,
trailing as thought forms, becoming our muse.

Irked by thought spirals, that twirl us around,
trading angst for joy, in love our soul’s drowned.

Impelled by a need to garner the truth,
tailwinds divine beseech God search forsooth.

Inked by hues of love, heart lotus blossoms,
tracing playfully, bliss in all bosoms.

Is not descent into life a wonder,
tilling heart till no one is asunder?

Ignition of love, awaits us within,
tango dancing to feel bliss on our skin.

In timeless time by grace, we vaporise,
tasting flavours of life breaths in surprise.

Intimate is touch of God’s love caress,
transfixing us in bliss, free from duress.

Immediate is granting of bliss boons;
toroidal mists, within which our heart swoons.

Instant nirvana’s ours for the asking,
taming ego’s urge for multitasking.

Illumination, to soul is innate,
thwarted yet on earth by desires that bait.

In the vibrant void of silence, let’s rest,
tapering thought, we find we’re at the crest.

15-August-2022

Blue Bird

Blue bird,
you perch on trees,
by the forest's far rim.
Dressed in silk robes of sapphire hues,
with tapering tail and a bill so sleek,
singing in melodious strains,
your sweet notes ringing loud.
How I love you,
Blue bird.


July. 18. 2022
 
~ Placed First~

Rictameter 
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger

Petals

hinting a reddening of accolade festering-
attention directioned to tongue;
paling and tapering winterbourne favor for aptly displacing the sun.
entering awfully, jealousy fostering,
the chimes ring in as it drums,
actually toddering, vision grows wobbly-
marking the brain with a dove.
the fabric had folded as gravity molded their uniform into a flower; 
it faded my fovea, panicking so we could speak a full word in the hour.
whispering dismally into the wind,
focus disposes my head;
clinically interbred- 
feelings from tandem side-
gather to bolster a red.

bells fell in through dwelling speed,
goner elated to simmer and seep-
beckoning into and out of the feed- 
inaudible promise to water the seeds.
enter the ebony poster of reckoning-
pleading and praising a branded palestrian-
pacing to plaster the bodily deafening-
falling in love as epiphany questioning; inter-sea embassy, isn’t it destiny, stilling to sanction a plea.

Autumn Zenith

Autumn bequeaths 
chestnut dappled 
ethereal forests 
graciously hued in
jeweled kaleidoscope leaves
migrating north on 
primeval quiet 
river snow
tapering under 
violet winter's
xeroxed yielding zenith.

11/13/21

Entered in 'Z' contest
Sponsor: Constance La France

Winter Haiku

geese migrating south
heading for warmer climates ~
honk and hink farewell 

white frost at daybreak 
sparkles as the sun rises ~
warm breath creates fog

an ice blizzard blows
weaving through the forest trees ~
white carpet of snow 

moisture and cold air
forming ice on window glass ~
ice flower bouquet 

water drips freezing
a tapering mass of ice ~
limpid stalactite 

cross or wreath made from
aquifoliaceae ~
placed at the graveside



Written 17th October 2020.

Last Hurrah

Like Ken, ever on his last sail -
a soul slipper asway on gales …
Some loves shall lead these ending days
Tapering the winding display ~

High mountain air before lungs crush
Umpteen stars to drink ‘fore eyes hush
Rivers cold to shiver the numb
Rivers bold will quiver to dumb
Away, away, this last hurray
Hie now to float the scented way ~ 

(8/29/20: '96 Sea Ray Express Cruiser 400; DMS)

Bonsai Ninja

with each breath I invite inner peace
approaching with meditative intent

manicure scissors in one hand
zenlike harmony in my heart

a passion for recreating micro landscapes
it’s a labor of love aesthetics and patience

defoliation wiring clamping and grafting
tapering shaping with explicit precision

twisted branches gnarly roots
graceful symptoms of ageing

pruning windswept replicas 
of effortless poetry in motion



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Submitted on May 30, 2020 for contest BRIAN'S CHOICE 11 sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  RANKED 3RD

Originally posted on May 5, 2020

Vanquished

Tapering off in a redundant gesture of defeat
An erroneous life silently suffocating on fumes
Indoctrinated since birth
and reprogrammed by independent perception
Disenchanted as the layers peel back
revealing the perverted roots of a seemingly fruitful surface

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