Wisping Poems | Examples

Tonight I write of righting

Not the wisping grasp against the parchment
That licking click of writer as he tpyes
The cold inanimates touch of skin on screen
Memories only shorter I eye aye the Scottish yes
Scrapes and scrawls on cave dwelt walls
Truncated truck trimmed in intricate trestles
Who was the first message in a bottle for
Bobbles of sheerest ink like Scottish lochs
as.morning mists turn solid for a movement
I enjoy being wrong
Keeping pictures of the dead to the soon to be
Words the unleashed an atom
Words that end wars
illlusions putting fuses to the con
My muse has left
So I better be …….gon

Tonight I write of righting

Not the wisping grasp against the parchment
That licking click of writer as he tpyes
The cold inanimates touch of skin on screen
Memories only shorter I eye aye the Scottish yes
Scrapes and scrawls on cave dwelt walls
Truncated truck trimmed in intricate trestles
Who was the first message in a bottle for
Bobbles of sheerest ink like Scottish lochs
as.morning mists turn solid for a movement
I enjoy being wrong
Keeping pictures of the dead to the soon to be
Words the unleashed an atom
Words that end wars
illlusions putting fuses to the con
My muse has left
So I better be …….gon

Wayward Son

Wayward son
lost in the maze 
of fleeting days
following a path
of wisping wind
and whipping flame,
a labyrinth 
of choices lost
in shadows,
seeking destiny
on shifting sands.

Moonlight Snow

Dearly beloved moonlight snow, falling on fir trees
Dimly illuminated throughout the night, a beautiful sight to see
Arctic winds cause crystal to dance throughout the winter air
Hair blowing to and froe, as all I can do is stare

Oh my lovely moonlight snow, so peacefully wisping down
Wherever you go, my lunar heart, is surely to be found

Everything I Need

is off the ground
my thoughts would eat yours
Standing in silhouette
holding
a candle held a softness
to her curves
and shade
lanquished in her
deepest cuts
go back to line 2
and just divert your eyes
i can disguise as a wisping why
creating waterfalls with rolling
-----------------------------------  -------@
-----------------------------------  ----------'@
-----------------------------------  -----------@
____________________________@
-----------------------------------  -------------@
-----------------------------------  --------------------This you
Now did he just make me sneeze
What for await a weight a

wait
the grey is unsure of sides
meant to be mean
but met a t coming here
i could tri
p u
p words
sitting comfotably without an r and a sigh

Drift Into

In the stillness is where she found her peace
Sinking into the sheets
The silk covered pillow supporting
Her every woe 

The unrehearsed melody of rushing water
As her eyelids get heavy
Catching the flicker of a flame
Taking her away 

Into the wild she goes
Where crickets are the music of the earth
The faint breeze of mother nature
Wisping, awakening all senses
Releasing the complexity of reality 

When the dew rests upon all that is hushed
The master of the tides dancing off her now cherished scars
Through the swaying of fully clothed outstretched hands
The carefully hung sparks align 

It is her
Whole
Unleashing all that had been
Once locked away

The Purple Inside a Rainbow

I think I've always seen the world in color
Bright radiants wisping within
There was no realization discover
It's something that always been

Others around me paint in black and white
Expectations are set and matched
But they seem so persistently in fright
That what they know is coming unlatched

There may have been a point
Where denial was in my pulsation
A young girl afraid to disappoint 
In the center of invalidation

Trying to label the unknown
My mind is like a prison 
But to overcome is to grow
And I grew in between the marmalade and crimson

Maybe not the warm shaded dinges
Maybe just in the void with plum?
I'll stick to the basic umbrella of tinges
Saturated by the pink, purple and blue hum

Why do I need to use permanent paint for myself to avow?
My sight is ever-developing and wayward
No, I will stay in a comfort pigment for now
Only purple can reside with my heart’s favored 

Vicious circle - I see in the bruised scene
Purple - somewhere in the in between

That Brittle Rasp

of paper unwrapping
that cloud wisp of wisping cloud
that turns to eagle talon
that acrobat plastic bag
flirting with the breeze
scampering ant trying to avoid the falling droplet
curled leaves that adorn
the face of tree forlorn
cursing clouds
as the splinter's emerge
written on back yard step

Song of My Souls Painted Dreams

Colors living in my head, 
paint pictures bold.  
My soul receives the mystical light; 
art in an etheric paint tube.

My soul, it mixes blues and greens; 
a palette only God and I can see.  
Wisping loaded brushes here and there; 
alive they come, painted dreams.

These are the songs of my soul; 
painted in my own life view.  
An old master I am not; 
my cosmic coloring book doesn’t care.

Soul-songs are vibrant and rarely on key.  
Some art collectors, 
prefer little imperfections, 
like me.


4-2-2021
ALL YOURS (Apr 4) Poetry Contest
Brian Strand

Let Me Share the Winds Flight Today

Let Me Share the Winds Flight Today

Let me share the winds flight today
Moving to and fro knowing no boundaries
Lifting the fall leaves in a beautiful twirling song
Scattering seeds here and there to rest all winter long

Let me share the winds flight today
Moving without being visible yet being seen
Brushing faces gently like butterfly kisses
Flowing past the stars filled with a thousand wishes

Let me share the winds flight today
Soaring into places nothing else can enter
Giving flight to the wings of eagles and hawks descent
Driving the snow in pillars of white glistening winter events.

Let me share the winds flight today
Reaching speeds powerful enough to move the mountains
Scattering raindrops to fall gently on flowering rose petals
Wisping chimes in a beautiful chorus produced by useless metals

Let me share the winds flight today
Unknown and unafraid able to reach even the lowest places
Touching every person along the way with love
Spreading the Good News of God like the purity of a white dove. 

Sadi

Standing There

I was just standing there
beside the Tumtum tree
and stood awhile in thought.

Feeling like a dancer -
wisping, waltzing, wandering.
Arms akimbo, then widespread
turning to the tune of
my own voice's mellifluous music,
floating on life's lonely stage.

Thinking the thoughts of the inner me,
the universe and all it can be.
Then to dance with the wee deaths,
the trying troubles to rearrange
only to have sudden joy
in impermanence and change.

Once finding illusive certainty
revelling in it, savoring of it.
The trite things one thinks of
while just standing there, 
doing nothing at all, soulful sighs.
Fluttered flicks of awakening.



Colored Pencil illustration by G. Gaul

She Leaves Me

Light vanished upon her leaving
with the final grip of dusk--
the perfume of asters wisping softly
and I am alone, gone
into the restless clang from winds booming;
a melody which makes noises louder
than my roars--
and within the luster of stars,
not a tincture eases this heart.


Entry for Brian Strand's  480 Contest 
14 Aug 2018

Breakfast With My Yellow Lab Lucy

Wisping kitchen sunlight
                          through dust and wood smoke.
                          Golden hairs from her body 
                          from a shake as she woke.
                          Rising up gently
                          slowly down as they float.
                          And brushing my oatmeal 
                          with a fresh yellow coat.

Moonwash

Wisping winds whisk whispered whimsies willows’ way. 
By the pond, we ponder potent possibilities posed by pollinated passions. 
As we divine dallying delights depicting developing days, 
Moonbeams mobilize to mob us on the mossy mound.

Controlled Burn

Hold those doors until your teeth begin to chatter.
That's okay 
'cause it's the only conversation that your walls have ever heard.

Talk to yourself until you start to feel you matter,
don't get lost,
you know it's hard to find the path after you've found yourself alone.

Teetering tree tops topple down,
landing, leaning, all around,
there forever for all to see
until the forest burns.

Run from the house until you cannot see your home.
Don't stop for breath,
just keep the pace until your lungs dry up and feet give way to bone.

- Let the dark befall you like the snow upon your crown.
Let it linger,
let it crawl under your skin until your cries are only sound.

Aging alpine aspen ashes
wisping, whirling, all around,
parched and barren for all to see
until the saplings grow.

Snub your candles.
Break your matches.

You can never be found if you are never truly 

                                              
                                                                                    lost.

• Short Wisping Poems
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