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Poetry...Okay ,eye rolls welcome, I guess

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6K views 79 replies 16 participants last post by  Skip Enge 
#1 · (Edited)
A spark lights
in the forest
No flint needed
The flames ignite
uproarious with
Enthusiasm and glee
Tinder everywhere
In this dry night
The flames reach high
Higher than you would think
Cresting trees and
sending sparks and ash
Into the heavens above
Folks hear the alarm
and get to it
Risking their lives
So we get through this
No one thinks of such
A situation here
Our summers are mild
And sky usually clear
But something happened
To our regimented lives
Nature has shrugged and
Thrown us a surprise
So we live on
Not seeming to care
Until catastrophe shows
that we need to care
About our actions
The aggregate of stupidity
The carelessness
The oblivious nature
We seem to exhibit
Naturally.
 
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#62 ·
poems to lyrics to song and music

Maple Falls

We walk down a split rail fence
Past the gentle chorus of water from a spring

Surrounded by hills that hug you close
Past weathered trunks lit by the pale of the light

Comforted by sheltering clouds
From above the patter of hail
A squalling message…. whispered from above

And love…. with solitude and quietness
The fall is here and this is where we live…. in
Maple Falls

As leaves drift and dance…in
Maple Falls
From arms stretched above…in
Maple Falls
Holding us in a kind of slumber…in
Maple Falls
As we enter our cabin caste in umber…in
Maple Falls

Lyrics by Leslie H Skip Enge
Music and sound production by
Richard Alan Krieger aka Crane
Copyright © 2020

 
#63 ·
The Lake

Pastoral haze evocative water
The grass is set into a mobile sonata
Conducting a semblance in the cool breeze
The conductor instructs ultramarine cast shadows

In the sky and the water
We hear sonic whispers from the lake
A subtle calling a chant just for us
That we are lucky to experience as
We see… feel and live

The Lake is a crucible a clasping of earth’s hands
The water of life is there and understands
We must see this to know what is important and real
The Lake is here right in front of us
To help us reflect and heal

Lyrics by Leslie H Skip Enge
Music and sound production by
Richard Alan Krieger aka Crane
Copyright © 2020
 
#64 ·
The Firebrand

So I met a fire
She bristled sparks
And flew into
The heavens
Then I saw
The glow of passion

In words and remarks
A firebrand
Leading an assault
Of complete salt
Such resilience
And temerity


I admire that
Indelible thoughts
Lunge forward
That fire of 
the
Egocentric
That intellectual
Hat trick
Sparking thoughts
That make me

Think again
And again
She discerns
,
Responds and

Makes me realize
My concerns
Are frivolous
Perhaps

Just self indulgent
Communing of spirit
 
#66 ·
The Watcher

As I woke
The watcher
As an observer
A fleeting instance
Winged soul winged heart
As an observer
Stretching erect
Peeling paint on
Mildew and coffee stained
Paper . I leave a message in
The accumulation of dust
To find later
How did I find this place
Memories mirror or
Has my life skipped a beat
Finding instead this
Interactive vissage
Bound by dream time
Limits this interaction
I am an observer of my own life
Cage free pantomime syllabus
Can I touch that over there
I better not concede
To that which is beyond
The kingdom of me
My lips sealed
No sound here
As if an observer
 
#67 ·
Was out of work i was down and there was no one around days where long and seemed to go on and on then I awoke out the door I went fly rod in hand I didn’t go far I fished hard rain or shine I didn’t mind it was sublime . I released all of my fish I liked watching them slowly swim away so that someone can catch them another day . Back to work I go that’s ok fishing brought me back today and taught me how to be myself in a special way
 

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#73 ·
I have hundreds of poems. here are a bunch


Life's Music

Music and creativity
Are a symbiotic communion

That compels
Us to integrate
Across all
Differentiation
We coalesce here
In this sonic realm, willingly
That helps define
Our existence
And heart
So we debate
And love
And compete
For this true heart
Of fealty and angst
Knowing full well
that we listen
To a different drummer
Maybe of another era,
With in fills and cymbals
Of a life we live
Or lived across
An expanse of time.


Book

The enduring repast;
A beacon for the centuries,
Whose archaic mundanity
Traverse heavy weather.
Cornhusk assessments
Imbue this allusion
With humble memories
Of hemp cloth jackets,
Woven are these tomes,
Terminally contextual,
Unruly, though interesting,
These are the narratives
Of time almost forgotten.


Figment

What visage resides,
Behind gossamer veils,
In corridors of quietude
Both dark and light,
Beneath conscience
And above reason
These lateral analogies
What alternate course
In semblance
Iris colored and wild
Where with all,
Where all…
Synaptic sprites
Flee mind shadows.

Light Scratches the Sky

Thunder warns us... impending
The sky exerts An alarm
As if existence were upending
Inky dark hues advance
With exuberance"
and no sense of harm
The sky explodes with light
The crack and resounding
Heavens face in a cry
Light scratches the sky
Speaks loudly to us
and surely can't be denied
You can't know...this eloquent show
That nature projects messages
To those below what is in control
Scratched light across the heaven
We awake and see the cacophony
Of a nature imbued with simultaneity
Count and wait then the flash abates
We wait as the display conveys
That we are lightening rods of fate
Once charged and struck we quiver
And run amok ...only to see that
Nature delivers a message to us
That we can't control everything...

Contemplate

I was thinking again
Wading through possibilities
of ways to convey my thoughts
Without similarities
I don't want to repeat
Where I have been before
I want to expose new ground
Once fallow but ready to explore
Wanting to be
Unique and real
When I just need to write
What I always feel
I contemplate too much
Think when i should feel
The battle begins
when i try to conceal
Those thoughts that are
Intrinsically real
Serendipity rules the day
The longer I'm here
The more that makes me say
I get that , it's very clear
I contemplate too much
Think when i should feel
The battle begins
when i try to conceal
Those thoughts that are
Intrinsically real
Contemplation is mud
Soiling the muse of my thoughts
Clarifying the could...
With what I would not.

The Wire

The gymnast
Walks a wire
Thin and delicate
Flexing ever so much
Those below watch
Gape mouthed, waiting
For a misstep to show
A fall from grace
An agonized face
As you fall
Dexterity and temerity
You have the gall
To act accordingly
As all watch
Risk is there
Everyday
As we play
This game of life
And decide what
Step to take
If our balance
is there
A trace to be seen.

Trumpet

When a trumpet sounds
The revelry gets attention
It's heraldic, a personal alarm
A wake up, an intervention
Analogy suggests
An immediate reaction…
Snap upright, stand tall
Wary of harm
Some of us hear
Trumpets bugle
All the time…
Some wait for it
As a signal to react
With no self motivation
Response or tact
Some wait for a trumpet
Seizing a chance to exact
Exactly we think…
This revelry states
Holding back
A natural response
In this we protract
Be self motivated
Intuitive and free
To express in action
Act on what we see
Inhibition is an albatross
Around our neck
Preventing concise response
We know to extract
What our personal trumpet
Tells us through nuance
Don't hold back
and just wait
For the clarion call
Make life count
And seize the moment
Above all.
 
#74 ·
What Matters

As you age you realize
Humor is all you got
Everything else falls apart
Some say with age
You accrue wisdom
Well I don't know about that
Older may be bolder or not
More opinionated, maybe
More balanced or
I would like to think
It's an attitude that's pure
What matters are
The things you do
The head and heart
You imbue
What matters most
Is to be true
To what really matters
 
#75 ·
This is not NFR...Ha!

Riffle

There is this little stream
Nerarby, I can hear it
A little riffle, a small dream
It calls me, It beckons

I visit whenever I can
I can't explain exactly...
But the beckoning voice
Calls me often

Water over rock
A chorus glistening
In daylight and moonlight
Its' mood calls
With meaning

Just a little riffle
A little wet spot
A vein pulsing
from mother earth

The stream,
Creek or crick
Wherever you live
It does the trick

There is a riffle
That entices
To those that love
Know what that is

A tiny place
A fish haven
A creature
that defies all

Water defines us
Why we are
We must remember
In all we do

Make and create
A riffle is a symbol
That life relies upon
This simple truth.
 
#76 ·
It's been too long between things from Skip so I'm stealing his thread.

After the Lichens Come

Crawling hands and knees towards the earth under my roses where the little lichens of lime green grew crusted on the hard cobble of dirt.
My trowel went deep to break the crust to turn the soil and let it greet the air. A crust like one of childhood when my black Czechoslovakian rubber boots broke crust on the snow after the frozen rain coated it like an eggshell of white.
The first task of spring----
my roses. My roses their buds swelling soon to burst and spray the air and show pink and red and white and life and too soon a brown curl of death and red rose hips for waxwings.
Until next spring.
After the lichens come.
 
#79 ·
In the absence of @Skip Enge, the official Bard of WFF, I cannot fill the void with anything close to his elegant rhyme and poetic beauty, but I'll try...

I look upon hills at fog pushed in from the sea.
Up to wet alder and evergreen who give their perfume of spring to me.

Heavy air thickened by damp
dew beads on my sleeve, makes salal leathery wet.
Rain, now mistily falls on my face.
My face to the northward set.

I have been an exile in this place and not of my own making.
But my choice has been to bide my time
not longing nor forsaking.

My heart is open for all so sweet
All so sweet for the taking.
But I long for none and not alone I feel.
No heart of mine is breaking.

I rise now and cast off the lines that have tethered me to the shore.
One wave I will smite and again the next
I'm an exile nevermore.
 
#80 ·
Hello

We Bees
If there is A symbol of
Our time and place
With changing lives
The challenges
That we face
I picture a bee
As analogy
And we of this
Azure globe, so great
Busy we are
Under a heaven
Of the same stars
Surmounting challenges
Both close and afar
We hope and cope
As bees do
From flower to flower
We carry that weight
Of who we are
Like bees we become
Like our children
Are always ours
We bees...
Under
Heavens
Canopy.




Earth and Light

Rotating thoughts
Around the axis
the meridian
Solar and lunar
Seem always there
A parade of shadows
A processional of
Quiet timing
We all know
The quest of time
Increments of
The sublime
Let’s observe
Shall we find
Analogy and truth
In that plein air
If we have
The nerve
To transcend
The literal
And linear
To break that
Barrier of
Channeled
Thought.
 
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