in pearls
kiss curls
mermaid
moon-made
teal scales
tea tames
rose light
jade night
wine bleeds
wave heeds
soul dove
soothes love
shell sings
zeal zings
stars crease
sage breeze
heart seethes
sea breathes...
1st place
B ring on this saucy Mexican flavor
E ach mouthful an epicurean delight;
E nticing the palate with slivers of meat
F ingers tap on salsa... hot as summer flame--
Y ielding to tacos' sun- toasted warmth.
Trails of cream cheese, onions drip on top
A nother round zings mouths with delight
C rusty. Creamy. Calorific crazy, and yet--
O ver goblets of Merlot, we deliriously toast
S unday's garden spree whirling into a fiesta !
I know we are called to a cruciform life
But did it need to be such a hard kick up the backside**
A lump of coal in your stocking
A lump of cancer is so shocking
Thankful for the life lived thus far
Thankful for Your guidance, making us who we are
Resting now in knowing You control all things
Hearing and knowing every prayer as it zings
And is played on all our heart stings
And repeated as the heavenly choir sings
Job asks his wife (concerning things of this life)
"Shall we receive good only, or only things unholy"
The river of God by the hand of God keeps rolling
So it's the cruciform life and it's druthers
As we suffer and serve God and others
[Poet’s Note : the fourth verse of this cinquain was written for ‘Scents of Autumn’ contest sponsored by JCB Brul, already posted on this pg.]
________________________________________
shiver
woollen scarf black
earth in cold dreamland sleeps
brooding we strengthen barriers
wild winds
awake !
yolk bursts a beak
faint gardenia sweet
freshly cut grass, lips open wide
buds sleek
bright blue
cool linen new
litchi ice-cream dripping down throat
sun laughs loud
hot lot
mellow
maturation
cinnamon floats woody
musky flesh loamy depths spice-wise
mushrooms
cycles
forever turn
seasons speak singularly
winter spring summer autumn rings
bring zings
L-5 and S-1—
Vertebrae pain is no fun;
Intense, searing burn,
And sharp electric shock zings—
Such unwanted, nasty things.
He zings through tall grasses and lands on my knee
I try my best to pull this sticky legged insect off me
He chortles and chuckles and pings off in the wind.
This hopper of grasses surely has annoyed and sinned.
Another one of these pests zings onto my shirt.
Giving me the willies, I scream at my cousin Bert
Get the lightening bug jar, let’s catch this foul creature
This grasshopper gives me a wink; he’s the double feature
Why are they so sticky? They are as tricky as glue.
And why, Bert, do these creepers never land on old you?
I guess I’m not as sweet, he says, with a wide smile.
Another one lands on me, says “Hi! Just call me Lyle!”
Her apathetic attitude toward work
Caused many a boss a bit of irk
Fervent night lifer, listless all day
Many dead end jobs with little pay
At her desk she was listless and dull
Showed less energy than yesterday’s skull
Flash-mobbing and clubbing were her things
After midnight, her energy zings
Amidst a burning skyline where
every tick of a gesture a happenstance
charges my essence and absorbs
this space where discoveries
allow me a chance to revel at
what is miraculous...the dance
of kaleidoscopic stars, toddlers
wiggling like cherubs , fireflies dressed
like the Orion... and I go with the flow,
radiant as wings of revelry
guide me through an armada
of delirious fireflies I need not comprehend...
because my heart awaits the next
swing of child-like enthrallment
delirious as the zigzaging zings
in a twirl, in ribbons laced by thrills
of free imagination...there, in that
jeweled wing, I seek nothing
but the translucent lucent spins
in total wanderlust of the unknown,
ready to celebrate this flight of eternal fireflies
away from the ordinary glitter
within what could ever be
any woodland that's ever near !
Three minuuts is all me’ve got
to fix sense of it, alles not.
Whutis time in tru sens of tings
wen you and mestart to zings
of lifinluv of all that is,
or izunt, in this heady quiz?
Life’ll livun tillit diez
then whutstocomm in the skiez?
Dusto dust is whutis sade
anthen what – where dus dust go?
I dunno and don tinktha you do too.
I'd like to tinktha dust arrize – surprize!
Koment doz not define dedend.
Iznotso ezzy to defend it.
Dustit fliz, in air it blos
to landzen, feilsen, mountens too.
Life beginagin an then enden witit.
Three minuuts to hold dust in my heart.
Zebra is not the odd one at all
In tales of adventure so springy and tall
In the land of the wishy swisher kings
The zebra is zippy, kind of one of the zings.
Arms outstretched.
Hands out thrust.
Fingers stretched out, reaching, straining, hurting,
just barely fail make contact, left hanging untouched.
Only a tiny spark zings between the fingers.
Like static electricity,
which flows when bodies
stroked with emotion
get charged up with a warm dry rub
and discharge with a tiny whip's crack.
Our love forever poised,
never had the impetus
for completion to fruition.
As we balked at commitment
fraught by quandary and trepidation
of expectation's negated equation.
Poised thus, we now will never know
what could have been,
what becoming could have done
if our fingers touched
touche.
Pureness, peace, compassion, bliss, Power, and Wisdom,
That links my reason-spirit body-soul system;
Tells me that my physique is a temple of God,
Though my day-to-day existence is flighty odd...!
Sufferings and pains wreck my delicate physique,
The feasibility of survival is bleak;
Jabs and tingles and stings and burns, and fleshly aches,
Sake my body; break it; leave it like mere sweepstakes...!
Do, yet, though wings get clipped, birds ever fail to sing?
Don't, midst caste, color, and creed gulfs wedding bells ring?
Physique, though a bundle of flesh, blood, veins, and bones,
Aren't there, within, caves of metaphysical zones...?
Joy is within, as fragrance within the flower,
Isn't the spirit, more than flesh, give me power?
Physical aches can't imprison the psychic zings,
This is why though bones ache my heart cheerfully sings...!!!
18 June 2023
Bones ache yet heart sings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Boots can be recycled for many things
This one was Daddy’s and it kind of zings
Reminding me of all the days I spent watching him rebuild a car
I tried walking in them when I was four, but did not get very far.
Now my twin sister has his left boot, and I have utilized his right.
I keep paintbrushes in mine, hers I think she keeps out of sight.
Some desires, some wishes
Some hits, some misses
Some longings
For those disappearing zings
Some peekaboo
Some more than the perfunctory
I love you
Some fantasy nibbles,
Some muffled giggles
Some fulsome curves,
Some afar slurps
Some cravings
For those red thongs and hot things
The ‘natural’ appearances
Jaw-dropping, gorgeous
She and me
Just the two of us
A nearly everyday ‘affair’
The fair beauty’s bare and dare
Sizzling, sensuous, screen romance
A repeat?
Hardly any chance.
Zigzag threads overlap
Zip zap tracker aligns
Zesty and shiny, too
Zings along the backside
Zany patterns excite
Zazzy razzle dazzle
Zenith night on the town.
A Pleaides Poem
10/5/2022
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