Give me one moment to reflect
On wonted scenery once erect
The steel, glass and wood all made
A home for birds, and those who trade
From here, there, all did see (unless
housed in a cave) Hollywood on TV
Land of the free, Home of the brave
Brandishing banners with God's Holy Name
Pitiful shadows dance when we stir
Given voice from the Puppeteer
Those towers stand in our mind's eye
Etched in retro, the old New York skyline
A warning? God forbid some say
Unsung heroes receive their just acclaim
Poetic justice? Verdict delayed
The sun rose again, the Eagle soared frayed
Our savior trod to Golgotha
We too will walk the road anathema
Remembering when. looking forward to
(Nothing borrowed, blue or old) something new
Blue is the color of the pilot’s sky.
Blue is the glisten in the dreamer’s eye.
Blue are some jewels, like, that of sapphire.
And blue, the flame; of the hottest fire.
Blue is the shield around the robin’s eggs.
But blue is too, the heart of he who begs.
Blue is that which grows around melted ice.
Blue are the tears which fall when life is trice.
Blue are the lips behind a stolen breath.
Blue; the visage of he who deals in death.
Blue, the wonted pigment; the hue of man.
Blue is the spectrum for being human.
Written: January 05, 2023
___________________________________________
As a river beckons
and brittle stripes
of soaring reeds swell,
with a faint breeze
and a sturdy hedge,
the ebb and flow
of a loving swarm,
who humbly trickle
on an emerald ledge,
my spirit quivers
at sight of your hasty
adrift in vehemence,
full of enthusiasm,
fledgling, foolish scent.
aerial zephyrs are said,
to breathe a divine dream
upon receiving,
award of merit.
Can you pinpoint
every detail in
a seamless swerve
swaying stygian splits
in crystalline water
convey radiance
or a wispy, hazy veil
wrapped in gnomes
rhythm,
dance and chant
as twigs protrude
from swaying rims,
suave souls supplied
a haven while time invades
wrests wonted words
as sapphire scrap.
epitome of sighs.
It's time for seraphic zeal
in gauzy garments
and lunar anguish,
beseeching you with
a supple, soft cuddle
to bestow her boon,
pureness excites her.
to the brink of rapture,
leading lips to quiver
she merely dodges it,
as her grasp seeks to yield
a tender kiss, and
a loving curl of her lips.
5th place contest winner
Like a reclusive boat, I remained there,
discerning the prevailing winds of change,
which many a time, made me embrace fear,
by surpassing the stipulated range.
When winds of change blurred the light house's light,
I blanked out and forgot my wonted route.
Struggled, wiggled and jiggled without sight
amid the sea, and there a hope sprouted.
Even when vigorously slapped on face,
and ruthlessly elevated mild tides,
it's a toilsome task to shudder ,sea base
and that's why I endorse her as a guide.
She persuaded that it's not writ large force
that help us win; it's just our inner source
Nov-17-2020
In my preteens,
I was nervy to go in the dark.
The folklore tales imprinted
that evil spirits would roam at nights.
when I heard the wonted gruff noises like
chirping of crickets,
rustling of leaves,
flapping of wings,
and whimper of dogs,
I was terror stricken.
They made me believe the acts of diabolic.
But now, when I remember my childhood fears,
I feel shy for my silly and nonsensical thoughts
because those are the lovely imagery of my poems.
STRAND COMPLETELY NEW (18)
any form, any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Lonely I walk through the walls of crowds
Reach out but like shadows they don’t connect
Their eyes are vacant cold and empty
Ghostly people walk on by crossing my path
As I head back home in wonted despair
Where I find solace in the whisper of your silence
I can always count on you
Your soothing presence tangible
Your embrace warm and lingering
As familiar as an old lover’s embrace
The feeling hovering
Haunts me ever so gently
Tired of wandering alone
It’s soothing to find you here
Loneliness serenely dark and faithful
Wrapped in the warmth of your caress
I find solace in the whisper of your silence
Read on air by invitation ~ April 12, 2020 'LATE NIGHT POETS'
AP: 2nd place 2022
Submitted on July 27, 2019 for contest SOUND OF SILENCE sponsored by JOHN HAMILTON - RANKED 10TH
A flying bird I am for heavenly flight;
No enthralling branch can hold me tight.
Free I am from all the passing years;
not submitting to the baseless fears.
Free I am from all the worldly chains;
staying away from all the bodily pains.
Free I am from all the endless desires;
not burning self in the lustful fires.
Free I am from the fleeting attractions;
never indulging in the vicious intentions.
Free I am to fly beyond all limitations;
remaining away from the wonted tensions.
Free I am from all the formal appreciations;
undisturbed by the dreadful rejections.
Free I am from all the religious rituals;
Unaffected by the deeds of other individuals.
Free I am from all sensuous pleasures,
always filled with abundant treasures.
Free I am to reach the highest goal
in incorporeal world with the Supreme Soul.
Be sure to flaunt it if you got it and talk till it's hottest news that is true when they gossip about you, you're honest.
If you're good at what you do you should be proud that you're on it with nothing to prove when your views are the strongest and strangest though some maybe mock it dont stop what you're good at it'll soon become wonted.
Some common folk want it to flaunt it but stop it the second they flop it and see they've not got it.
Some try to improve with more bollocks and cock it up once again and there's often some gossip.
If you want it the hottest news and you've got it talk to whoever you want and dont stop it.
Flaunt it if you've got it and show off the fact because some are born modest so flaunt it and be damned.
The story of the world is an absorbing dream.
Though longer than our lives, it sometimes feels as brief
As our own rapid days, whose swiftly flowing stream
Bears memory downstream: a light and helpless leaf.
Our minds grow ripe with age and urge our hearts to leave
The cradle of our youth for more alluring shores,
Yet—late in life—we find it troubling to conceive
A kinder image which our pummeled faith restores.
When sleep bewitches reason on its restless course,
The wind of power breathes its daring way across
The distant, fleeting kingdom of our happy source
Of long-forgotten songs sojourning on old loss.
The heavy cataracts of wonted, dull display
And leaden tension creeping down on silent man
Throw freedom and its passions into disarray
And wake the fiendish force whose roar bright fancies ban.
The sign of spent desires—a breeze of the unseen—
Takes shape upon the cloudy shore’s unlevelled sand.
Alas, I cannot linger in the realm between
True form and wish, before fair Hypnos takes my hand.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Contemporary Ode To A Mother Crying Out
To Her Children…2015
Sprawled out on life’s stage,
her world turns and runs
river red with the blood of her children:
flowing like a wandering stream.
Bloated ballooned bellies
mock aborted pregnancies;
once luscious breasts
sag in parallel union
with sinking faces
of lost hope.
Lost hope—whirling
like solitary ghost smoke
of abandoned fires:
abandoned fires
dying in waning time.
Hollowed red eyes
of fleeing lovers look rearward:
the wholeness of nothingness simmering;
as smiling death sits—
waiting and anticipating the wonted feast.
Heartbeat of hope struggles—
murmuring in the valleys and shadows;
searching the gods’ penurious mercy.
In the midst of the Dante, hazed hell,
a wretched mother clings
to time and history—once again.
Rooted in her audacious faith,
she cries out to her wandering brood in Diaspora:
those liberating souls spewed from her precious womb.
Scattered liberating souls—umbilical bound;
destined to restore her great grand glory:
With sage seasoned good courage,
sagaciously she squats—
awaiting the victory.
A barren paradise
Paper parachutes
Bleed, I before we
Except after deaths
String of light suctions
Screams captioned
Vocalizing muffles
Fleas flee
Parasites sight
Leaches beseech
Conventions plateau
Wonted into winter
Inept untaught cling
Polluting prospects
Tasting achilles
Oxidizing tongues
Clip urinating lips
Pressurizing knuckles
To freeze ends mean
Of inks soap
Washing pluto pores
Till burning gain
Is nothing lost
Samold verse
An inkling fresh
What's left to not do?
Peddle soup cans?
Underline oddities?
Misspell mutiny?
Lying in a sensible
Juxtaposition
A fruitful prison
Dubieties engulf all around
As the brume in the dawn
Behold plants seeking strength
In this warm cuddling cloud
_________________________________
Songs soon sing from the sky
The common notes that play
When it’s about to drop wet
Upon human’s bower.
It’s wonted (by this time) to descry
Dark clouds being deserted
By its everyday residents.
In the mood of the inclement
It’s sparse to hear
Any row from the firmament
Other than the loyal sound
Of the saturated pattering
From the blue yonder.
At eighty he is still a coolie
toiling in paddy lea;
reaping pods and
heaping the seeds.
His sagged muscles working
in wonted harmony
But his brain tired of thought;
of his son who died as a sot; or
of his daughter widowed at twenty past
or his wife pulling weeds at another spot.
He has to carry on this moil; I thought
till death to retain his breath.
Looking at his pitiable plight
a wicked feeling swept my heart.
How great we're in contrast;
honourable servants of the State.
We retire at sixty, in peace.
Take home a lump sum of grant, apiece.
Also a pension for monthly use.
Last but not the least
a T.V and a chair to ease.
All this at what a simple price.
For sleeping forty years in office! ! !
For the longest time I was in darkness
Not knowing which way was which, or where I was going
Then one day I saw something I hadn't seen in forever
I saw a faint light off in the distance, so I ran towards it
As I tried to get closer to it darkness would surround me again
But I pushed through no matter how much I got hurt
Pushing through the darkness I got hurt so many times
I wonted to give up over and over, then I would see that light and remember topush
I finally got close enough to feel from this light
But darkness came again and engulfed me
This time the darkness almost won it's battle
But some how I found the will to break free of it's chains
I used that will to finish the quick dash to the bright light
Once I got their I had a new feeling I had never felt before
Oh bright light how you wrapped me in your embrace
Made me actually feel and for the first time actually loved
I hold on with everything I have
Because you bright light are what I have been looking for
I just have to tell you something
I love you
The pain is becoming to much to bare
It's ripping my heart to pieces
The memories wont stop coming
Bringing the un-stoppable rain of tears
The one thing I've never wonted
Is the memory of them all to hit me at once
I just wont it all to stop, to just die
Before they make me go insane with hurt
I sit here and just scream my heart out
And it only makes me feel worse
The ones I loved and hurt so badly
Are now killing me slowly and painfully with their memories
These tears burn as they fall off my cheek
For their filled with so much hate and hurt
My heart is beating so fast and uncontrollably
My breathing is speeding up and coming fast
It feels like i'm going to die so painfully
But then it recides and comes back twice as hard
I just wish it would die and go away
But it just wont no matter how much i beg
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