Of then,
Smoke of a squandered summer morn
The barrel of a summer afternoon
And the spittle of the soundless shots of the stars within a summer eve
Homeless homage, tainted talent awaits to watch and berate
Wilting wonders to wound a heart the size of a horse
Hoarse to mourn the drowning drought of the mellow monnow
To drown the blessed sapphires of summer fever
With fevor and bloodied weather
And sleep on a velvet throw
Turn these demons and paralysis upon the stars
And stitch and tie and tighten
And wear aware of the consequence
And ensnare the stars aware of the darkness
Pay the fare to the ferry
And pretend not to hear the merry walks and dreary ends of life
Pretend not to tighten without the enticement of and ending life
Pretend not to sleep
Away and away and away
Further than the astral splurges of this
Life
Sleep with the intent of death
So death may bless the creaseless crown of my forehead
And sleep with his singular kiss forevermore
2//5//2025
Seldom mistaken
A besotted bloke in New York
In love taken and shaken
Dreaming of an infatuation stroke
Bakes in his mind
A love niche his heart to gladden
Despite the labour grind
Of the love burden
Strutting his manifesto
Under a moonlight in a tryst
That delights his toe
To roll out a love feast
The bloke splurges
In honour of the damsel of his dreams
As time essence urges
Celerity in streams
Galvanized in his desire to capture
The damsel
Who his thoughts and feelings rapture
As though she were a gazelle
Swimming at the deep end of the swimming pool
In his heart
From which only he could be the fool
To depart
Heart on fire
Mind in flight
Imagination for hire
On the crucial night
When his emotional skills on test
Ought to gather
Opportunities in haste
On suds of love lather
In consonance with the promise
The bloke made to himself
The damsel to kiss
To delight the damsel’s self
Alas! Damsel repels
Advances made
In love pails
Her sanctity the damsel won’t trade or degrade.
Against That Pale And Ashen Cold Gray Sky
Dark colors of oak branches spreading high,
beds of Autumn's fallen leaves are resting.
Against that pale and ashen cold gray sky,
Nature is contemplating and testing.
Winter waits its rebirth in sweet repose,
Passing days yield to time's eternal ways;
Clouds cast forth water from heavenly hose
Soaking high forested hills, filling its bays.
Man and beast alike face Nature's splurges-
Instinctively both yield to its power,
While embracing primitive deep urges,
Race for safe cover in which to cower.
Tall oaks grace this fantastic and harsh view
Nature moves forward collecting its due!
Robert J. Lindley, 1-28-2016
Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 95
Alliteration #2:
SURREAL
Sense sweet soul stirrings
Feel flavours fleeting
Realise rapture's rooms
Being blesses bloom
Claim cheer's charming choice
Promise piquant poise
Fleeting form figures
Lasting love lingers
Taste troubling tensions
Aim artful action
Plunder primal poise
Value vibrant voice
Silence splurges stains
Stillness sows sweet strains
Sightsee simple seer
Quiet query queues *****
Zooming zealous zest
Freedom feasting fest
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
12 March 2015
Singapore
Moody dirges
Erratic splurges
Neurotic scourges
Tearful purges
Adrenalin surges
Licentious urges
Mitt Romney’s wife was criticized
(Though she was not defensive)
Because she chose to wear a blouse
Considered quite expensive.
She wore it on a TV show
So she would look her best,
But journalists decided that
She’d failed the litmus test.
All those who like to criticize
Were ready with their clucks,
Delighted to reveal that blouse
Surpassed nine hundred bucks!
Though prices through the stratosphere
I cannot comprehend,
I wonder why reporters care
What politicians spend.
John Edwards’ haircut, Palin’s suits
And now Ann Romney’s blouse,
Provide the ammunition so
The columnists can grouse.
Such splurges prove to all of us
Those folks are out of touch.
They have no clue that most of us
Would never spend so much.
Yet still, I find it strange these facts
Are told with fevered pitch;
Beware of candidates like these –
They’re not like us – they’re rich!
You bump into a former friend
You haven’t seen in years,
And catch up on the latest news
Of families and careers.
But then you start to reminisce
And all the time gone by
Just melts away, despite the truth
A mirror won’t deny.
You laugh and conjure up the tales
Of escapades long past,
And wonder how it is your life
Has zipped away so fast.
‘Cause as you are remembering,
Your younger self emerges –
The carefree way you were before
Adulthood stopped those splurges.
But then reality returns
And soon you say goodbye.
You say you’ll get in touch, but likely
You won’t even try.
At least, for just a little while,
You magically did spend
Some time with both your younger self
And with your long-lost friend
My hands are either blessed or possessed
I feel as if I don't write
But that my spirit pours prophetic words onto the page
The more I grow and age
The less I have control over these urges
Much less a hobby, these are emotional splurges
I write the words in my heart that my lips don't speak
Words so deep that they have their own melodies
My heart sometimes denies these motions
Because I guard my emotions
My hand keeps my heart up to speed
I'm a minister, I administer this literature
These sonnets, these verses
All you're getting is a miniature
Sample of my vocabulary
Because if I pour my soul all the way, I'll feel naked
Some things should be kept secret
Until I let go of my defenses and can take it
Meanwhile, I let these angels use my physical being
To compose these words that you are seeing
To release me spiritually and give me the vision my eyes don't see
I don't write these words
These words write me
My dear friend and worst foe,
you follow me wherever I go,
towering above me sometimes,
falling behind at other times.
On sunny days, my braids I admired, for hours on end,
as you showed them swing, over the day growing longer.
On stormy nights, while we kids retired, our fingers did bend,
as the walls made eerie faces, our curiosity growing stronger.
To my eyes, your unrelenting adherence,
oft seems like a reverence,
although like an enemy,
you sometimes stalk and waylay me.
Yet, it’s on you I rely,
when luck fails to be my ally,
my guard down the lanes of treachery,
partaking my grief and misery.
Now my brush splurges in deep hue,
and kisses the canvas,
my dark shadow comes in view,
and makes me nervous.
I mix vigor and passion,
with sweeps of brilliant lines,
the picture tells my notion,
that good and bad intertwines.
abolished beheadings conspire delicately. egotistically fawning grooves hinder intricate juries.
keeping luxurious meanders. nocturnal outlets permeate quintessentially. random splurges
transcend universal victories. whispering xylenics yearn zoomingly.
Dust jubilee
and mass of creaky earth cakes,
skin of flakes and clone
of Negev, their earth, their earhth.
Famine ]
splurges a cheque of rats
and pushed her odyssey
to a million.
Firepots
whimper leaves
onescore doddersoles
hack
haw
klack
croak
caw caw
kakle kakle
cluck
Are the new denizens
of the street.
Tongues line bricks
and add to Babel's empire:
'old Bubon was only a child!'
books and wheels
some of us spills the feel out
then we get out
suddenly a couple emmerges
he splurges on himself a drink
thats the thing
thats your big man
then his hand turns rich
then the son of a jerk gets sick
he do
he marry you
then he improves
and your through
then the two time loser finds hers
she was sure
she didnt sleep with him
she made him dream
thats the thing
thats my poem
im under one
for all your
confusion,
your forgetfulness
your awkward questions
and masterful responses
your visits cut short
coversations drawn out
your uncertainty
your innocence
your unthoughtful splurges
and quiet apologies
for all your pauses
and drawn breaths
throughout your day
for every song you play
i love you more
than i can find the guts
to say