Last Ride – Lament

warrior-knights-horses-fantasy-art-artwork-1920x1200
The moments drag on slowly,
melancholy their shuffling by,
no caring, no stir, no spark, no ember,
no flirting, courting, dancing sigh…
ether frozen, in acrid bloom
of thinner’s naked scent,
kerosene and pig fat, parked
around this holding, rent
of scarcely what has flown by,
fueling vapors, keeping time…
caught in mists of dawning dusk,
lack luster points in pausing rhyme…
so meet the sun’s last rays,
solemn hoof steps bearing on,
greasy grins, wanton eyes,
most doubting that the road runs on
beyond this glimpsing certain grave,
but ride, away, to battle, brave
the echoed hatred,
ebbing in a future’s drift,
no words, no poems, no silence,
suspended in this steel cold rift…
dusk overcomes the mortal,
shields the thinning veil of life
from eyes that cast the pall of death,
keeping honest broken strides,
denying peace, relentless gauge,
whispers flit in hushing waves,
there break the ground in somber pause,
one portrait lacks this moment’s cause…
but then,
in waves of mourning,
ends…
somewhere begins again…

inspired by the image – public domain wallpaper
http://www.desktopas.com/files/2013/06/Warrior-Knights-Horses-Fantasy-Art-Artwork-1920×1200.jpg

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Filed under knights, Poetry, Universal Soul

Adieu

“Farewell”, the garden gate did echo,
“Adieu”, the song upon her lips,
Yet strummed in burdened sorrow,
Steeped in time no future sips.
“So long”, I echoed back in hoping
That she’d at least glance back a sigh,
“Love?” in whispers softly coping,
This empty hope so full, “Goodbye”.

prompt from dVerse Poets Pub – 9-Nov-2016
https://dversepoets.com/

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Filed under Poetry, True Love

The Procession (November Geese)

Stretched across a steel grey sky,
suspended, held in motion,
November’s “V” shaped lines of peace,
eternal, together, broken.
Whispered through the firmament,
a rustled hush of wings,
purposed rowing, stroking home,
calmly metered autumn dreams.

Harvest stubble left to fields
in gently woven tawny rows,
counts the lea twixt bearded forests,
passing o’er the few perched crows
who claim a bleacher fence post,
chatting, calling kind farewells,
while overhead the gaggle moves
in steady flow, within the swells.

Tomorrow comes first snowfall,
its scent betrayed to naked fields,
where subtle breezes carry hopes
of winter’s coming, autumn’s yield.

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Filed under Autumn, Nature, Poetry

Histories’ Fortitude

labour

Deny me not this fleeting moment, forged form pain in workday spent!
Deny me not the chance to grasp this truth in passing as it’s rent from in the flagging husks of time where captured souls of labour fall.
Embrace my soul in words unspoken that from their pallid ashes call the clarity of a hopeful love,
the danger in the risen beam,
the tensiled courage plans to build a nation’s growing dream.

What strength imbibes these few of honor?
Who engineers each step they take?
Where do they rest their inner spirit when all is done for finished sake?

Long past have these ennobled men graced our living spirits’ truth!
Their iron will and honesty, left in structures as their proof!

Photographs – United States Public Domain

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Filed under History, Perspective, Poetry, Universal Soul

Frabjous Day

Oh! What a day!
This day unlike the others!
Today the Jabberwocky’s slain!
It’s Frabjous day my brothers!

The White Queen rules again my loves!
For Alice spilled the beast’s black blood,
that haunts the Red Queen’s running stead,
with fears of words, “Off with her head!”

Today, and this day, one alone,
the Hatter, Mad will dance to song
and jig and step in gloried fashion,
dancing quick, the Futterwacken!

Oh! Frabjous Day! Oh! Frabjous Day!
How long we’ve truly waited,
to chase the Red Queen’s sulking steps,
with calls of all our hatred.

Hatter, Alice, White Queen too,
rejoice this day, and send to you
a happy blessing, a single chance,
to join our Futterwacken dance!

futterwacken

Prompted by dVerse Poetics… https://dversepoets.com/

Walter, our host, suggested that we write a poem of celebration. He gave so many wonderful examples, and I was really kind of caught off-guard… but for some unknown reason, my mind was filled with Lewis Caroll and Tim Burton’s extremely glorious collaboration and resulting celebration of Frabjous Day! “Where the heck did that come from?” I asked.

Frabjous Day… the day that Alice slew the Jabberwocky, thus returning the White Queen to her rightful reign of Underland, disposing the wicked Red Queen. On this day, it is claimed that the Mad Hatter danced the incredibly exciting and celebratory Futterwacken dance! What better form of celebration could there possibly be?

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Filed under Alice in Wonderland, Frabjous Day, Poetry

The Cat and The Moon

cat-and-moon-kasia-derwinska

Solitude in standing,
bathed in harvest’s milky moon,
hallowed by the moment caught,
suspended midst the stars, in tune.

What sparkles call him to this ledge?
What questions form within his head?
How long will starlight hold his heart until he purrs to bed?

No matter what the fatter waxing of a perfect night,
the moon, within the edge of room, spills thick its milky white.

Beyond the distant clatter of alley’s trash cans hunting din,
above the howling love songs, sick, repeated, moaned, again, again,
no greater pleasure drifts his way than this, one perfect poignant perch,
where past the moon, ‘twixt stardust seams, his simple pleasured dreams do search.

photo artwork by Kasia Derwinska
https://www.flickr.com/photos/kasia_derwinska/

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Filed under Nature, Perspective, Poetry

Yellowed Hall of White

Throughout the yellowed tarnished white,
the past reflects an echoed call,
where once a single pose she struck,
now only whispers through the hall…
filtered in the ochre dreams of golden dust suspended there,
imagination’s hopeful hints stir within her haunting hair…
eternal moments hold him still,
yearning for her love, long lost,
silent, dust of eons drift,
recounting dear the painful cost,
repeated in the souls who wander,
seeking peace in those they love,
stolen from the stage in anguish,
carried by an ageless dove,
who sees them passing tireless,
who knows the breaking of their hearts,
who dares embrace their truth, their passion,
stretched across the dying parts,
of life, of hope, of endless tides,
of missed encounter’s temperance,
of holding truth’s betrayal,
within an ageless penitence.

Lengthened shadows folding gold to greys of dissolution,
he turns away in sadness’ stain, one tear, one sigh, no resolution.

Within a yellowed hall in white,
two souls in echoed time,
long for life that ne’er was theirs,
repeating waves, recurring rhyme…

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