For Nette Onclaud's Eight By Eight Poetry Contest
Written: Aug. 2, 2026
Folded in fog of muted white
a drifting veil within our sight.
The willow breathes a muffled myth
to dust the dusk with autumn pith.
It blurs the chalky bone of mounds
and hems the sky in shadowed shrouds.
It steals the wholly shape of sounds,
then leaves the soul in dew-tranced shrills.
As one who hankers to peer
Beyond this moment
Cliff-edged, with northern gannet
Share its thought; there leant.
Who, diving, though not dream-tranced
Is as rapt; unfazed.
Whose sea into, though not of Time
Is as eerie hazed.
Misty oblivious haze
Rainforest appear to laze
Danger veiled by your daze
Lurking in lethal shadows
The sun long set
The sun's feet burried yet
In the dense canopy threat
Blind to the rumbling silhouette
Tranquil leviathan lake
Ripples soothed the ache
Tranced yet awake
Mist matched mind
Growl from behind
Tore trance from mind
Hazel orbs in fear
As the historic terror nears
One lazy summer could I
As one stem of lie!
To feel as that grass, tranced sways
A hand the wind in!
Unseen moreo'er - divine!
Lady's - overfine!
Sent which state in, just as hazed.
Gold dreams burgeoning!
"Absorb me, accept me
O beneficent ray!"
Dawn-tranced, smiled from out one
Open-armed, standing.
"Which light, though dim, of Love
Embody's Heaven's day!"
Of that intuitive feel
Conveyed too; grinned in!
alone
in a crowded room
people pass faces glance
void they are…
no thought to anyone's soul
or ponderings of creation
just shells walking in its grace.
in tranced is their eyes
full of diamonds, cars, caviar…
hallow be thy name
in lambs blood meek
bringing to the slaughter
man's greed
the only impotent seeks
15 seconds of fame
I watch the coming flame
a glow with hell at its heart, alone
in a room crowded n doom
as people pass
faceless faces glance
void they are, walking
in the last footfalls
of a passing generation
or dancing in the dark light
a ghost trancing finite!
alone...
Those with time to the brink are on the irk.
Sincere toadies do not cast magic shirk.
People who have also been hugely hurt.
People tranced with the act of a flirt.
Firmly, it isn't the genial people who I denied.
They're apt as crucial as the things they hide.
This dreadful wrath has taken over my heart.
If I grasp them, chew the cud; my hair grows a dart.
You appreciate them, yet they overlook you.
It's tuff to fathom folks who love but fade too.
People who beget anguish and sadness.
People who say they care but flee in darkness.
I deplore slugging, furious, proud, and slander people.
People fear honesty; therefore, I sprawl the treacle.
Written: January 08, 2022
King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
*Image of Flower Purple Orchids by Pixabay.
Dream Makers
fresh
half-castes
tranced set eyes
moored wild sparkles
smooched perianths hues
moon chant ripen charm bud
purplish-lacquered functions
claimed space far and few
*cheat death to thrive
warm broad spots
mauve blooms
dense
*Epiphyte: Plants that grow on another plant but are not parasitic.
2021 August 12
Loyalty brings even the fortified few to falter somnambulantly in succession
As if tranced to commit, their convictions are true yet skewed
The blind emotional outburst of bigotry and cynicism conveyed
Is but a microcosm of what pain these individuals likely feel
Something of an atrocity to be used and told when to kneel
Although the accused has seen duress they gladly contride the thoughts of madness itself
I feel that you deny me reproof yet I will not pity that which cannot choose
As sad as it seems to me I see I've held on to honesty gleaning
Were supposedly a friend you said having talks breaking bread
But now that I see that your truth is my lie I know time will determine the test that was cheated
The sad part I'll say and to my dismay is that there wasn't discussion, just conceded
Hope it's enjoyed, misconception eroded have the seat that keeps you yearning and teeted....
Lovers cling to each other’s dreams.
This is why I can sit again
at your kitchen table in the morning,
butter bread, and drink your herbal tea
even though I always need black coffee,
I did not tell you that
because I had dreamed myself
to be in love with you
and everything you did and liked
not knowing I was reflecting your love
and your dreams,
Ideals choreographed,
tranced us, it was a dance
between lovers as strangers.
Even now
I can enter your small bedroom,
in your London apartment
with your Persian cats,
in a time long left to slumber.
There we will make-out again
with those perfect people
that we never were
while dreaming of another love
we had then yet to meet.
Upended side silhouetted curves
Guitar gut succumbs concave pummel
Stroke of silk amber timber turns
Tranced incessant performer to animal
Strings emit unconcious melody
Calloused hands mollest chords, glide
Neat neck shake resonates body
Four kick outline organise notes inside
Looped chorus caught contagion
Spills rhythmic spools of tuneful allure
Tale telling verse's return enables
Beat subdued by soulful bridge endure
Slow tempo finale of song abrupt
Fickle fingers emptied petition an encore
Bouy bubble brief popped corrupt
Cadence swings wild windswept rapport
6th February 2021
Written for Contest: Sensual
Sponsor : Charlotte Puddifoot
It's mother nature's dance
spring growth dubiously enhanced
resting beneath the summer sun
bees, birds and butterflies on the run;
hurried in and out the garden gate
nestling in the flower blossoms safe
a melodic hum drum
to the beauty of the season come.
It makes me smile, causes me to see
the simplicity of life in every bumblebee
to feel the flutter of butterfly wings
listening to every bird that sings;
a warble, tweet and trill
holds my heart with every thrill
some garbled fish swim splash
escaping the heron's gnash.
The waterfall dance
stretched along the stones tranced
with each reflections of some petal fall
mixed colors from palette painted scrawls;
a dragonfly zipping along the pickerel
beauty quite visceral
the grandeur elaborate and intense
this year's rainbow along the fence.
Welcome one, welcome all
to the wonder and beauty of the garden's call.
I am the potato every pig covets,
The circus every Woolf dream to perform in, and
The toddler every phidophile crave to live with
But non will ever have
I am the uncut gem that will ever be rough
The golden egg that will never hatch
The promissory rain that never falls
I am the Oasious mirage in the Sahara sands
The hope that will never happen
I am the prodigal son who never returns
The Fallen Angel bound in purgatory
The pain the world will learn to dance with
The puncture that will never be mended
The unbleached indelible black patch
A patch of black on white linen
I am the darkness that out shines the light
The negativity that permeates every decent heart
The fear that every brave mind wimp at
I am the harlot sleeping with Kleptomania
Tranced in the blood of innocent souls
The cries of the poor is my sole music
I am the bread cramps of africa
The pagan spell that can never be undone
The sacrifice for the world to see
I am popular in every continental tabloid
I am the joke every embarrassment laugh at
I am a lot of things but nothing
I am nothing else, but Beloved Zimbabwe
When the day is done, and all the lights I lit are gone,
... I think of you, in ways I never thought I'd do.
When I imagine the many ways, to spend with you thru the days,
... I pray and hope of things to do, that others haven’t done with you.
When I see you in the deep of night, my mind is tranced by your sight.
... I lose my thoughts, forget my lines, and wish you near, all the time.
Of a dawning in a brilliant twilight hoverance,
Skipping along an unmarked trail so unexpectedly,
Dared naught say out mumbled words offered without pure malice,
None receptive to my thoughts for a soulless oddity,
Passed a bed of sleeping lilacs, waits for a yellow sun,
Tiptoed throughout their yawning, sweet snoring scents fills the breeze,
Ventured on fields of greenery blades, tickling treats of fun,
Crept by a virginless dove, resting on her eggs well pleased,
Further 'neath a dark sleeping sky, bluish winds doth oft squeeze,
By mere chance, a valley filled with tall sturdy tawny teams,
Teeming with an assortment of life moored in a tranced ease,
Small amidst a magic forest of pinky pixie dreams,
Peaked interest motivate my steps, towards a grey retreat,
Stood and gazed o'er a whitish glow of mystic airiness,
A cool wind blows from east to west and tightens my intrigue,
Though a strange cloud grows around my being, pushed me to the test,
Forced to wake as I learnt 'twas but a dream of circumstance,
Of a dawning in a brilliant twilight hoverance.
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