Vigorous, vivid, bewildering, bright songsters,
That could calmly enchant the cruelest of monsters;
Belonging to the flinch family of Red Birds,
Each of their utterances is sweet poetic words...!
Cardinal, with a unique crest and red plumage,
His maid, a great singer, makes in woods her roomage;
No cathedral. yet, he's a cardinal, in red,
On red rose and white rose he finds his cozy bed...!
Part and parcel of all Christmas decorations,
Nourishing on sunflower seeds and creations;
Roses tell tales many; cardinals enjoy,
Each, in their presence, feels pleasant; completely coy...!
I find my very self in the cardinal birds,
As he sings my heart's unarticulated words;
In my good times and bad cardinals are around,
With rose roses to make me integrally sound...!!!
28 December 2022
The Cardinal and the Rose Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Categories:
unarticulated, cute love,
Form: Rhyme
Free verse eludes, escapes
I cannot rein it in
Not free at all, in fact
Unarticulated words
held prisoner by
rigid structures in my mind
Too much is none at all, it seems
A canvas blank remains just that
For lack of numbers, lines, and colors,
preselected images do not appear
To draw outside the lines
where none exist
a daunting task, indeed
And yet I see a little rise just over there
and wonder what’s around the bend
and whether I should tease it out a bit
or just leave an ellipsis
so that you can wonder too
immersed
but also
free
Categories:
unarticulated, writing,
Form: Free verse
To one who lies awake across
the watches of the night
subsumed by just the soft cocoon of thought,
I am the whispering walls that
stubbornly invade your mind again--
surrounding it
with unarticulated hope again,
provoking it with dialogue
that will not ever rest.
Their "why" pervades subconsciousness,
it seeks, and then repeats
both question and response, fading
only as the curtain rises
to disclose the day. You stir
reluctantly, your refuge, yes
your chosen cynosure retreating.
Not I. I wait within.
I shall not let you go.
The whispers that you hear
are certain to return
and neither you nor I may cease
our midnight rendezvous.
It defines us
just as the patient
and persistent walls reach forth
within the dark, as their mission is
to mark the whole, though it may be
a tribute only to the vanity
of every soul's desire.
~
Categories:
unarticulated, analogy,
Form: Free verse
What was this unarticulated joy
that beat inside my chest?
That which was expected and is past
reflected numens chanting to my spirit,
as if subdivided in my superconsciousness,
I may not bear them as a whole
though holy they may be...
one mystery selects a lifetime as its drum
and makes the years crescendo
poco a poco from its infancy
unto the crashing storm of age
when breath itself implodes.
I think it is too much--
a joy the mind at quest must know
and not to be endured.
I think a man must shake his fist
in protest as Beethoven did,
unable to sustain it to the end.
It is the depth and height of ecstasy
of which its single aim
is to expire.
~
Categories:
unarticulated, allegory, joy, may,
Form: Free verse