The bubble is bound to burst
before long; therefore at least
A gondola you should opt for
For letting loose your emotions
Loaded with almost all oceans
Curved currents and foams
Potential fear amidst delight
and excitement; your sights
blurred by beauty that roams
along the edges of the figure
Flooding your whole existence
Mopping off all distance
Of time and space in braincase
Only the embrace, you write
and replace, the lips and face
In cloud base and fireplace
In cold case and in a horse race
Mewing wooing cooing
Howling, growling, prowling.
Doing, undoing and redoing
Life is never a straight line
Bland canned and flatland
It's waist band and dreamland
Fascinating woodland
Crescent and fluorescent
Incessantly effervescent
So no monochrome of woe
No saying always not and no
Instead, the bugle of gusto
In the meadow with a rainbow
Always the wonderful gun
In your lovely hair-bun
___________________
18 September 2025
Blood from blood, bone from bone,
Under the partially eclipsed moon of a burgundy-red sky,
A murder of crows gathers on the barren carcass of branches,
Whilst mist clings to a chipping tombstone.
Hardened petrichor shifts ever so slightly,
Awaiting the awakening of revenge incarnate.
The witching hour is almost upon us;
Noir-cloaked figures emerge from the passing shadows.
A High Priestess holds firm an ancient Book of Shadows.
As the metaphysical clock strikes two,
Yellowed pages frantically flip to an incantation.
The underlings take their positions at the four corners,
While she takes her place in the center.
Chanting the passage simultaneously, resurrection is forthcoming,
As shrivelled nightshade blooms to ritualistic life
And the paramount witch returns from her unsettled slumber.
The Wheels of Dharma turn in their favour.
Scorched lands and vengeance follow,
As Armageddon ushers in a new era.
It thunders through like a rampaging doom,
water cracked the stone, and carved out this chute,
the locals around here call it the Flume,
white water churning through a confined route.
Roiling, throwing mist onto the rocks,
always wet and sporting a sheen of green,
so loud is the torrent it’s hard to talk
over the noise as the water careens.
Empties out into four small waterfalls,
which widen into a wading-deep pool,
folks splash around, and the kids short and tall
dunk heads in the cascades, thinking it’s cool.
But never dare try riding the cataract,
even dumb kids know they will not come back.
A songbird sings of morning glory,
twittering homage to Dawn's first light.
And ebony shadows fade to shade
as they lose the protection of Night.
The sun rises from a scarlet shroud,
draping itself in a golden hue.
And shining above Earth's eastern rim,
light paints the sky a robin-egg-blue.
Blood tints the clouds cotton candy pink
as the heart of Night's pierced by Dawn.
And, soon, color is fully restored;
while dew sprinkles glitter on the lawn.
Butterflies and bumblebees waken;
as a new day slowly fills with sound.
And Hope renews with every sunrise:
it's not lost; it's waiting to be found.
I want to hear your voice
Not by will but by choice
I seek your guidance
For on you alone is where
I place my reliance,
Alliance, radical defiance.
I want to hear your voice
Above all voices that ever pieced
My ear I seek your final word what
Is it your declare?
I wish to hear your voice
To calm the turmoil of inner
dialogue and rumination.
I want to hear your voice,
the divine melody that guides my footsteps
Your words are the calm to all storms
Protection from external devastation.
I want to hear your voice
A light house and beacon
among all dark forces that
may come against me.
I want to hear your voice, the gentle thunder
that awakens my soul from slumber,
I want to hear your voice calling me to purpose beyond the noise of this world.
I want to hear your voice, the sacred song that resonates
in the silence of my heart,
I want to hear your voice reminding me I am never alone,
That within your words I find my true home
the
green
dragontail
moth
with
her
wings
that
flutters
through
the
air
yet
made of cloth
is
God's creation
.
Ooooooo
wait'up
ooooouch
No
Oooouch
I hope you have
band aidz
there's gotta be
blood
doez yuh sharpen
them nails girlie
(((youch)))
A covered bridge once spanned across
this deep, dividing stream
and anxious reverence filled the thoughts
of all to trek its way.
Wrought iron bolts held taught and fast
this might of chiseled beam
as shingled roof and clapboard wall
held brevity at bay.
It stood the days when horses drew
their harvests to the mill
that lay beyond the river’s weir,
along the channel stride.
Its wooden slats were burnished clean
by spindled wagon wheels
and planks would whimper hallowed moans
as wind and stream collide.
Its stalwart strength held stoic
as a darker day encroached
and bore this Nation’s burden when
Her war was in its prime.
And some still hear the cannon wheels
engrave as they approached,
and Brogans pounding cadence as
formations march in time.
As time will do its passing drew
the strength from timbered bone,
and soon it came to call upon
this faithful trodden friend.
Two hundred years of lumbered toil
gave way to man-made stone
so, generations still to come
could bridge divides again.
.
hern pluperfect
just az
Mine see
Mine lips
Nibbling dente
Hot breathe
Lap
were
taut
nimble
agile
Loud
,)
Mist is deliberate veil
Just to notice
If the eyes risk
Entering to meet
To greet and embrace
The face wearing
A dotted lace
Mulling to reveal
Knotted thoughts
Those plots
Of dense stories
Ivories of memory
Glory of the sun
We used to build up
From the point of
The startup
Until the plates and cups
Would get satiated
And the golden dust
of the pulverized sun
Would turn into
The moon of contentment
I know my dear
That won't happen
Because you're hesitant
At the very entrance
Of the mystery
Ignoring the filigree beyond
Waiting to dawn
______________
12 September 2025
Heavenly love sprays sunrise hue
on rose to make you a pearl from dew.
Hospital waiting room in the afternoon
Tired flowers looking after the patients
Saplings emerging from the interaction
Oranges in the hands of the sun as it sets
________________________
11 September 2025
Lost in writing iambic couplets, the moon and sea
Sounds of whispers from between long eyelashes
Waves moving from side to side, a provocation
Quick, let's fly out, chirping the wild ducks
________________________
11 September 2025
Balancing accounts, my most hated chore,
Invoices piling higher than ever before.
Lists of too many charges haunt me today,
Lamenting the weight of each bill to pay.
For only a few days, a sojourn
With the mountains or by a waterfall
In search of an autumn dawn
Amidst the mist on the blades of grass
_______________________
10 September 2025
Specific Types of Imagery Poems
Definition | What is Imagery in Poetry?