Haven 9-18-26
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Haven
The inferno cast by a sinful moon
Rises in the red breath of winter,
In neon flames and flares.
Faceless
Whimpering
In splinters of bare bone
Howling into grimacing spectrals
Deaf to the labor of compassion
The agony of maples turning scarlet
The sound of birthing stars.
In the debris of green apple afternoons
When tongues of flame
Speak the thesaurus
Of sanctity
Shards of purple glaciers tremble
Chastised
Chastened
By labors of the amber dawns,
As hallowed sweetness
Falls upon the thirsting tongue.
Then, in this arbor, beneath amazing wings,
Joy reclaims crystal blooms of grace.
Amber carpet of fallen leaves
Underneath tall brown trees
That rock sway in cool breeze
Unique autumn crunch under feet
Making piles as we rake and play
Never too early and never too late
Seeing grey squirrels scampering
Beagle barks chases then whimpering
Red leaves are my favorite thing
Enjoy the cardinals as they sing
And the air is full of pumpkin spice
Traveling in winds from baker’s wife
Heart so warm due to happy life
upon quiet morn
when the stillness still lingers....
watchman crow caws
first only faint whimpering sounds
then full fledge warning billows
Robert Collum's style of writing a Haiku transferred over to Tanka poetry form.
3 words/5 words/3 words/5/5 words.
Phlegm slithers down the sink
its slow descent towards the stink
Hands of mucus and hair reach
out like Hell's hellions to ensnare
the whimpering shade, pathetic
adorned with bloodied fists, raised
beating their faces in rhythms anthemic
A mirror is their sole spectator
A reflection is an unreliable narrator
that sees a God that punishes fear,
the pen that writes infinite narratives
Pain, the transformative element
is the absence of language
Its primeval elegance
My toenail is ruining my life
he started by ruining my sock
pushing a huge hole into it
then he forced me to jump in a mud puddle
Now I am wet, cold and whimpering
Thanks toenail, I say in a loud perturbed way
toenail does not care; as usual.
Deep beneath the twisted root,
Where silence wears a felt boot,
The mother curls in circles tight,
A ring of warmth against the night.
Her brush is draped like silken thread,
A pillow for each tiny head.
With silver tongue and patient grace,
She washes every fuzzy face;
A rhythmic stroke, a tender sweep,
To lull her restless kits to sleep.
She nicks the clay and clears the air,
The mistress of her earthen lair.
When hunger nips at bellies small,
She answers to their whimpering call.
She leaves the warmth of huddle and home,
Through silvered wilds and woods to roam.
She answers every hungry need,
And gives her waiting kits a feed.
But if the heavy foot should fall,
Or shadow loom against the wall,
The mother transforms—sharp and keen,
The fiercest flame that’s ever been.
With bared tooth and a warning low,
She stands between them and foe.
In golden coat and eyes of fire,
She is the shield, a mother’s desire.
Until the stars begin to pale,
And dawn unfolds its violet veil,
She keeps the watch, the sacred trust,
Amidst the roots and cooling dust.
Fly shadow fly
seeking another apple on outskirts of stages
I will not move unanswered
Powerful
is my name
Shadow flies whimpering
hosting another cloud filled with longing rhythms
an audience seeking crystal droplets
Showering
like young poets
Seeking another apple
pear found instead, the bite poor verse
whisper into tangled plaited hair
Paperwork
to translate longing
Outskirts of stages
I did not move upon a shore
there lies my reddened core
Shivering
a no return
Search no longing
sigma waves seek to moisten dry throat
they float only my apple
Exposure
for your tongue
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[ Poet’s Notes : Eliska Form :
5 lines in each Stanza
3 / 7 / 5 / 1 / 3 words per line.
Line 4 constraint:
3 or more syllables ]
Honourable Mention :
All Poetry Contest
March 26
A black dog
Whining and whimpering
Sitting at the end of the bed
An omen
personification of misfortune
Forever the dark cloud
looming over
everything I’ve loved
Forever the killjoy
They call it selfless to get a rescue dog
The truth is the rescued me from mind fog
The day when you feel an instant connection
And have a need to show protection
They win your heart with those deep eyes
Abused and damaged, whimpering and cries
Feeling lost, alone and forgotten
Behaviour shows they are downtrodden
But you have a home for that special one
They have a special prize they won
With all their quirks and special needs
Your heart and mind forgives the misdeeds
Their personality shines through
A heart that is pure and true
The magic they share is unrivalled
When they settle and there isn’t a fight for survival
They become a part of the family and you
A love unconditional that you never knew
Like they were always meant to be there
A life complete that we can share
The truth is rescuing a dog takes sacrifice
It they are more than just suffice
They belong to your heart
Even when they sadly depart
You were always meant to be their forever
Truth be told they saved me
Then there were three
"I hope I will be as accepting as an Autumn leaf
that looks up at the sky when it's time to die...
graciously thanking God for the gift of my life."
~ by poet
Autumn's leaves begin taking flight
I feel chagrinned, without delight
Are they whispering and sighing?
Purged in death~ their seasonal plight
Crimson faded; sadly dying
There's no whimpering or crying
Not a word uttered, nor tears spilled
With Nature, they are complying
I wonder... if they were free willed
would they prefer to be instilled
with more life if they had the votes?
Covered in snow, would they be chilled?
Perhaps, they'd choose as antidotes,
voices escaping from their throats.
Would they survive the coldest days
wearing snowflakes for Winter coats?
Old Madame Claus was thoroughly tired and bored.
Even on Christmas Eve, she was at the board.
That fat old Santa expected her to scrub floors,
So, for her best sexy dress, she searched her stores.
She went to the barn where Rudolph was sleeping
"Get out there, you lazy deer and stop weeping,
We're going for a drive, and stop simpering.
Get the sleigh, warm attire, and stop whimpering.
Rudolph followed his nose and flew to the towns.
Folks wandered through the markets, all in gowns.
All saw Rudolph and Madame Claus eating cakes.
Both drove back to the North, Rudolph full of aches.
He was whimpering
Again and again
Repeatedly pleading for love
And it was me
Who was ruthlessly counting
Its price.
Kid was innocent
And knew nothing
That
He loved so much me
From the first day of his life
But
I invested in him
From the date of his birth .
( A true event that shocked me
When I saw a farmer sold the kid of a goat.)
The whimpering wind outlasts the storm.
Embers smolder beyond the flame.
What's withheld, unsaid, hones the ear,
Patience in pondering deepens meaning.
Until the tongue-tied uncoils its pearls.
Silence is the elephant in the room.
"Wicked witch reeks havoc.
Wanders across the sky.
Watching for prey to scare.
Westward wind blows cold air.
Whimpering children run.
What a terrible fright,
With Halloween tonight." The Poet
Weird happenings tonight.
Witches all take to flight.
Want to give kids a fright.
Will tricks be their delight?
Whisking children away.
What treats will come their way,
While Halloween's today ?
I'm waking up and rubbing two blinded eyes,
The crispness of the sweet-scented air in whimpering July
Rapidly spreads by a benevolent wind that pleases,
It allows me to discover by intent a sublime reality,
Which is the morning's picturesque beauty:
Does strong belief interfere with a sense of great friability?
Nature can be brutal or pleasant, and yet it can fascinate
Us, when it suddenly embraces each sense to compensate
For the discontent left by a dreamless and unrestful night;
What we hear amid those eerie shadows is the cry of a cricket!
I distinctly revoke such repulsing and unenthralling nights
As I wash their macabre images off with cold, running water;
Is a better day coming, prompting actions that don't falter?
Harm is done when pain is accepted and tomorrow frightens.
In this morning's picturesque beauty, I could lose myself
And wish that dreaming vainly detaches me from grief,
not seeing any delusional mirage on the journey to happiness;
I've expelled the vile demons that made me spew lies!
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