Short Punctuating Poems

The white three-pronged birch
pale, punctuating, parchment,
chalk strokes on green board....

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Campfire
Marshmallows roast
Vanilla scent
Floats, punctuating joy
Oh! gilded starry night 
Memories...

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The moon took possession
of the sky
a blank slate of atmospheric haze
punctuating
the seasonal sentence
of solar cycling....

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scintillating stars
punctuating velvet skies
owl swoops on its prey

Vernal 2017 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand

03~26~17...

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The moon sat, plunked in a cobalt sky
punctuating the stratus
a wane full note on a blank scale
resonating, pulsating, pregnant in it’s fullness
and the string was plucked....

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Mindful/less music moves mad musicians
      save/lift/elevate
Shreds of Song

Diatonic drones dancing on the digital drums
      vibrate/move/inflate
Fragments of Folly

Percussive pianos punctuating points of peace
      inflate/inspire/infuse
Elements of Exultation...

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your eyes mail me letters
letters i rip open
with suspense and wanting
words never spoken
dancing phrases
that i feel in my knees
unfold in my stomach

your eyes write me love notes
notes i tear apart
they glance down my body
sending cursive messages
punctuating each breast 
with an exclamation mark 
between my thighs...

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The stir of a love song
whispers across midnight,
blending times present-
times past,
punctuating the softness
of a silence belonging to memories
locked away,
hidden within heartbeats . . .

whispering a sudden longing
for a time before the time
when innocence pirouettes
on the moment of passion,
and all songs stop....

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Horrible blobs
crawling on the radar
threatening detonations
punctuating torpid oppression
promising a merciless deluge

Robotic insects invading
Wrathful humans devolving
Nature devouring
Order dissipating

Ambient lyrical drones
bathing the dystopic landscape
inculcating visions of an alternate world...

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Mediums of Winter parse
translucent runes on the tines 
of sloping firs basking like mallards 
in March's brusk sunshine. 
Arctic oracles echo on the lake's hard sapphire 
with pearl crests punctuating 
Spring's arrival while cat tails exclaim 
nascent umber banks. As teals float 
in a tarot of amulets tanagers preen, 
imbuing remnant frost with scarlet omens....

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Gigantic pylons of wind-carved granite
Form astonishing pillars of natural wonder
Sculptures to rival Borglum's finest faces
Perilously perched along the winding trail
Punctuating the Black Hills with awesome
Commas of towering mystical totems
Where once the proud Native Americans
Roamed with the buffalo in blessed peace

written August 25, 2021...

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I plucked the moon out of a blackened sky

To save it from the music of Orion's wrath

The universe, now without its lover

Played its tune among  the stars




Adapted from 

Moonsong by Deb Guzzi


The moon sat, plunked in a cobalt sky
punctuating the stratus
a wane full note on a blank scale
resonating, pulsating, pregnant in it’s fullness
and the string was plucked....

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The shift to vernal tone
starts a standoff with eyelashes.   
A sickle moon begins
harpooning the stars.


The unorthodox microlove
brings out a ciliated canon
of faithless interior. The gods
were going to become weary of snowfall.


Punctuating the silence, words
again scream, fly like eagles
in the valley of wounds. How far
the fire will go engulfing the untouchable ?



Satish Verma...

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Tiny bulbous clover flowers punctuating my lawn
Springing up within hours of a fresh mowing
Bees by the hundreds finding them at dawn,
Tiny bulbous clover flowers punctuating my lawn
A new batch every summer, how they respawn
Almost as though Mother Nature is sowing
Tiny bulbous clover flowers punctuating my lawn,
Springing up within hours of a fresh mowing. 

Written June 12, 2022...

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I see neon orange
as it pops, rattles and jars
inside my mind, all the time.
It titillates, sizzles and struts
a solid, knock out punch. 

Orange obsession, like a
manic brain on overdrive
squeezes it's juicy core
into every fiber of my
being, it reigns supreme. 

I close my eyes and envision
an orange chorus of poppies
punctuating a country hillside. 
They sing an enchanting song
while I dream of bright 
orange tomorrows.





Written on 3/4/2016...

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I doubt that one can put
a price on love...though 
many have tried – even
lied;

I doubt that one can be
happy without a fair slice
of love, the spice of love,
received a letter of love
and wished, at the least,
to have replied – 

unless missing the punctuating
part of love, lacking the spirit's
feeling heart of love – staying
safely beneath or above, avoiding
the core nature of love, fleeing
the prime director of love...the soul's
reason for being.......

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