Short Frays Poems

flower presses
fruit preserves-
autumn frays...

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Blue, spiny, varicose veins
years of hard work to appraise
clotted arteries heart's door strains
life's temporal lease instantly frays...

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Breaking Dawn

Night sky frays to day
Headlights make holes in the slate
Driving out the dark



© September 2013—Kim van Breda...

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shadows lengthen
chestnuts roast-
winter bides

catkins murmur
easter eggs-
spring tides

bluebells chime
wasps picnic-
summer stays

flower presses
fruit preserves-
autumn frays


Haiku sequence form...

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haiku seasons
frozen in epigrams 
tripping from a pen

shadows lengthen
chestnuts roast-
winter bides

catkins murmur
easter eggs-
spring tides

bluebells chime
wasps picnic-
summer stays

flower presses
fruit preserves-
autumn frays...

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silence
frays
          my mind
          raw stillness
          bites
my soul
memory
       freezes
              passion
                            cold
in
life's
        shadow
                     I 
                     seek
the shade...

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In the twilight
As the night falls
our sight hindered

Yet our love stays
As moon rays spread
nerve frays with night

Fresh sea breeze blows
As wave slows down
~heart flows with joy.


Olusegun Arowolo
CONTEST:'Than Bauk A Twilight' sponsored by Nette Onclaud...

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Bellows of Ecstasy
makest them envoy
wondering why those who hear words are in opposition
than, and there beyond
the frays: edges of people who
wish to hem the lining
that there coat's are torn
seen only by the wearers eye's
fabrics of those who wish to
love like I love...

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Dancing on a common thread
Lost are thoughts while on the edge
A bitter sting
An ego gone
Conscience flooded 
Righting wrongs
Heart overflowing
Purpose no place
Crawling from the bottom 
Emerged no disgrace
The end the beginning 
Life has no plot
Frayed at the end
From lifes twisting knots...

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Each day
Hangs on a thread
Of uncertainty that
Tilts on a fragile, weak balance
Moving to and fro from darkness to light
Light to darkness, chaos and death
All seem dispensable
As the thread frays
Each day.

Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~03.23.16


Rictameter - poem with nine lines, syllable format 2/4/6/8/10/8/6/4/2...

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The midnight tossing
with next light browsing
throughout the dream — where floor breaks
but the dragging lasts,
an impression past
the shadow within that frays

the little girl's spur
and the woman's lure —
the nimbus from her steps born
from heaven's dark gaze —
approaching her gait...
her shadow, a braid for morn....

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Her face brings tear and smile in equal measure
Death weeps at thoughts of her loss
Free myself from deaths unmovable grasp
to never say goodbye
Twisting time
With frays
That beckon her beginning
Silence licks his forked tongue
Anticipation blooms and dies
Forever forms her eyes
Truth hides in shameful shadow lies
now leaving life for more...

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Evidence shreds itself 
in half-remembered candle glow. 

Old photographs never taken 
keep the clearest images.

What fails to occur, changes,
learns to walk and swim in time.

What is left frays and unwinds
in a fog of happenstance.

Such things are ghosts 
in a jigsaw of light,
smutch in a guttering flame, 
as clear now as then....

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Scene
from a
borderless willowed window
frame
one scarlet cigar of sparking neon
smoked on slaplit glass
perhaps
meantime
the cinderous binding frays but
that face carries cities continents constellations
slow shellac sounding significances wrinkling into ivory
leaves of remembrances read over
some text they shared
may be
vellum will fray but
no
not this way.
...

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Heaven's reach chastises earth
Rebuking folly of nature's worth
Such angry beauty of power displayed
Enlightening the dark of clouded haze

With applauding laughter, celebrates
Eternal skies reverberate
Whence bringeth tears of no remorse
Justly unveils Almighty force

Existence frays to wither away
Reminds the sun tis end of days
Oceans devour sparkling crust
Vanquished flesh returns to dust...

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You first held my hand in rapture's own sown, green honed land -

Shared time was easy laughter that rose layered throes thru joy-spiced air -

Your lips brushed mine with youth's stirred flair by a stream's calm stare -

We lost focus under night's starry skies as sparks dazzled our sighs -

No years shook my dear memories of our young frays sated in twilight rays.




... CayCay
Jane 15, 2018...

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In a town where one’s car MUST IMPRESS
I am in a permanent state of undress
Without said car 
I don’t go far
When I leave my lair
I walk everywhere
There are cats I greet
Even a human or two I meet
I have become fit 
Bit by bit
My temper no longer frays
On L.A.’s “free”-ways
I am unlikely to injure or be injured
By drivers bothered and bewildered
Surely my mandatory health insurance account
Deserves a discount?...

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In a world where I do not exist, 
Silent specters softly glide, 
Whispers wilt in twilight’s twist, 
Echoes ebb, and shadows hide. 

Time’s thread frays, a fading seam, 
Dreams are dust, dispersed in wind, 
Life’s lantern dims, a distant beam, 
Lost in night where stars rescind. 

Footprints fade in phantom sand, 
Words are wisps in woven mist, 
In this realm, no guiding hand, 
Just a ghost the dawn dismissed. 
...

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With the onslaught of hatred brewing.
The deceased abode is ready,
for its first viewing.
Hidden deep within the urban decay,
safe from political debates and heated frays.
The manner in which this manor was mantained,
shouts of moral abuse.
A century and a half young,
this steeple chase race has it debut.
In the anti masonic stature of youth,
dedcadent heirs fill its halls.
The manor prepares for its 
second rising...

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Listen to poem:

The Season of Grieving Color
David J Walker

The day dawns in golden streams
Of pinks and grays 
And the frays of  things 
In moist and curious blues

What color of the pallor 
Could be piled upon
the pallet to bring
In the days news 

Seasons are soon changing 
Rearranging the specter 
Of views we’ve become
Used to

There is little heat in  yellows & greens
Scenes of desires in 
Cool violet fires 
That preens in convex mirrors...

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Who is this Justin Bordner
Who reads between the lines
He’s welcome in my corner
He is honest with his time
It seems he recognizes
And responds to subtleties
He understands the essence
Goes beneath the pleasantries
He’s comfortable with messy
His conquest has no tests
No one needs defeating
There is only tenderness
JAB and his transforming ways
With pulls and tears and seeps and frays
Feel, as imagery unfolds
Notice how he’s touched your souls...

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My nails are getting long
so I might as well dig in
puncture my chest
skin this (fatuous?) doe
the scent of fresh blood wafting
as my digits wade deeper
 
I pull out a stone, smooth and
slightly porous
with a single red string
tied neatly around
Smash it, gnash it
the scarlet line frays
I catch a glimpse of
precious stuff inside
 
I chip my teeth
to chew and swallow
the glimmering mass
filling me
whole
I am illuminated, glorious
harrowed as an orphan fawn...

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In the stillness of the night,
In the ambience of blurred light,
I'm awakened,
My prowess is strengthened.

My muse comes to me,
Inspiration flows like the sea,
It’s an encompassing tide,
Nothing can hide.

A door opens,
I walk out of the woods,
I'm no more cloaked by gloomy moods,
The waning door reopens.

A tranquil moment,
I'm in an unperturbed element,
Bloom stays,
Gloom frays.



April 1, 2023.
Writing Challenge - 'Q'' Words - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France....

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