whisper manner closed
wild the tone the muse mildly
weening hear the woad
Categories:
weening, poets,
Form: Haiku
There is beauty in your absence
there is greatness in your silence
there is pain in your wishes
In your innards, there are dreams
Poetry and you are synonymous
I am synonymous with love
how I love you both.
Poetry is a susurrus
that tickles the nooks
and crannies of resourcefulness
every recourse, every nook
and cranny, and life itself
the shadow lives inside me
an almost flawless replica.
It moves when she moves
smiles when she smiles
all is well, a shadow says
shadows from the past
stretch longer when the sun sets.
Weaning from the breast
of grief and tears
becomes starker and harsher
Mother, you are long gone
yet in the fading light
I suckle on your memories.
5th place contest winner
Written: January 28, 2023
Your Pick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Categories:
weening, analogy, appreciation, memory, mother,
Form: Free verse
******This poem had special appeal to me in that a friend had brought up that I had a talent for poetry and he encouraged me to write more. I was very proud of this piece, which was written at one of my 'hideaways' where I find inspiration; nature poetry or what some call 'nature erotica'. This poem was anthologized, which makes me feel rather fortunate, since a publisher requested it among many other poets and great poems. I think I finally 'saw' what my friend had after it was officially published*****
Amid the sylvan shade,
the footpaths teem with wooded laugh,
the sylph she giggles atop aerie slumber,
tickled in soft-slender breeze;
the nectar dews,
meady-moss and carpet-leaves,
juniper and berry-sweet breath
She sings amid the sylvan shade
nothing to do but sigh and dream
her wanton-wistful way
The glade whispers wishes (weening)
tempered hush,
echoed odes of faerie-tongue forgotten rhyme,
But for the meadow and vale,
aerie eagle cries,
none has come but I;
to sit and ponder, and listen -----
homage,
amid the sylvan shade
Categories:
weening, mythology, nature, peace,
Form: Classicism
You're stranded
in the boundary’s realm
then you're lost
from its pith
you want to get home
but the shadows kept you
you din’t found the way
until you got back
to the base end.
Maybe you forgot
that you do exist
but not only you
weening your mind
and beguiled
that without knowledge
you are nothing
then where is your soul
which you say noble.
Breakout from your eyes
and see the world
there’s a bloody fire
that drips into the bod’s pit
while you burst into dust
you didn’t caught the time
to tie the star!
Purple Couch
20 August 2018
12:32 PM
Categories:
weening, betrayal, body, desire, imagery,
Form: Free verse
CHASING WIND-IAN MUNYWE
A time will come ,
when you long to see.
These kind eyes,
this Apollo that tries.
But Lo! It will be, chasing wind.
A season will present itself,
when you yearn to hear this voice.
Soft and soothing,
it shall be a battle you are losing.
Lo! It will be,
chasing wind.
A dawn is looming,
when you will be weening this scent.
A sophisticated hillbilly`s,
one with a preference for chilli.
Lo! it will be,
chasing wind.
A spell is drawing near,
when you will easily slay to feel.
The warmth from my sternum,
the charm columns in my palms.
But Lo! It will be,
chasing wind.
An epoch is approaching,
when these sentiments will linger.
In your mind`s deepest thoughts,
in your spirit`s highest courts.
But Lo! It will be, chasing wind.
Categories:
weening, heartbreak, heartbroken, life, loneliness,
Form: Lyric
whisper manner closed
wild the tone the muse mildly
weening hear the woad
Categories:
weening, adventure,
Form: Senryu
What Parents Should Say
Written by: D. Collins 5/6/16
And We Quote…………
“Go out and test the water, but swim the right way.”
“We relinquished rights on your eighteenth birthday.”
“We’re on vacation enjoying some of life.”
“We can’t get a signal or enough height.”
“Your dad is busy. He can’t come to the phone.”
“When you blow all your money don’t call home.”
“Join the Army and go see the world.”
“Wear a condom when you get with the girls.”
“We’re only weening you ‘cause all animals ween.”
“We’ll have to call you back, we’re on the putting green.”
“We gave you the tools, now its time to use them.”
"It’s called growing up to become young women and men.”
Categories:
weening, family, humorous, my children,
Form: Sonnet
The Cliffs and The Gorge.
Chance upon chance-- lover to lover,
The truest love discarded—lost romance,
Never either again found another
Two seek the self-same love forever asunder
The hollow hearts hath much pain,
Never again, never again, to replace the crossed-star love flame
And in the weening half-full hearts replaced,
A great black chasm carved worn from the scars remaining,
Like a valley between peaks, cliffs for eternity refraining
But for infinity the heart but holds the one true face
One true soul, and the loss builds anger inky, black as coal
And slaves to fates goal, mortals’ love never enough
And in its seeming, seething hatred lurks in the heart of unrequited love.
Categories:
weening, destiny, lost, love,
Form: Villanelle
A player who weens,
more frequently queens.
Volodymyr Knyr
2014
Categories:
weening, games, men, people, political,
Form: Couplet
The old man's dipping bread.
An earthy porous piece.
He's plunging in his coffee
and drawing forth in peace.
And when he's sipping from it,
he's weening at it's lip.
His thoughts befuddled actions.
His stare a slow, dumb dip.
His sip is quick and quickening.
He's quick to raise his cup.
His last sip before leaving-
His paper folded up.
A shadow of a man
that's left within the room.
A quiet hush around it.
A ghost he's left to bloom.
Categories:
weening, abuse, addiction, allusion, analogy,
Form: Quatrain
Amid the sylvan shade,
the footpaths teem with wooded laugh,
the sylph she giggles atop aerie slumber,
tickled in soft-slender breeze;
the nectar dews,
meady-moss and carpet-leaves,
juniper and berry-sweet breath
She sings amid the sylvan shade
nothing to do but sigh and dream
her wanton-wistful way
The glade whispers wishes (weening)
tempered hush,
echoed odes of faerie-tongue forgotten rhyme,
But for the meadow and vale,
aerie eagle cries,
none has come but I;
to sit and ponder, and listen -----
homage,
amid the sylvan shade
Keith Hunt (c) 2011 Anthologized in 2012
Categories:
weening, nature, peace, symbolism,
Form: Rhyme
There is a meadow of eternal seasons.
with climes weening a tempered breeze
four moons night-bright;
a shade for sitting and kissing
neath oaken mistletoe ----
a place to grow old
with golden children born,
when all without is war
There is not a hill to bound,
nor fortuitous crest to mount;
there is a path among friends
cool in the winnowing wind,
And a song most melodious for thy footfall
lute and string;
from thy tongue, a tune
of olden din,
thy lips, with honest hope
a thousand violins;
Just beyond the hard places
and rocky roads
(there is a meadow)
Categories:
weening, hope,
Form: Rhyme