Lines written for #FromOneLine 272
Take me back to when
Flickering dust from
Burnt sunsets touched me
With pangs of loneliness
And I merged with
The inky hues of night
Caressing the emptiness;
In the pain was born
The finest prose,
Poetry so tender,
And a never-ending love
For eternal solitude.
Lines written for #FromOneLine 271
When the Sidhe*
Stopped dreaming
All that remained was
Whirring of machines
Clicks and whispers
To feed artificial brains
That could never imagine
How sweet the smell
Of the first rain
Or the mystery
In a forest trail
Ah! The crunch of leaves
Beneath tired feet.
*Sidhe: fairy people of Irish folklore, said to live beneath the hills.
#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo Day 30
In the midnight blue expanse
The rotund Moon hangs –
A bauble precious,
The stars are not far behind –
All trinkets, glamorous;
They say its luminescence
Can bring about madness
But all I gather is succor
In its gentle iridescence;
There is a calmness
A promise in its presence
To conquer the Darkness
And it’s forever mounting hubris.
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Moses Wolcott Redding. Standard Ahiman Rezon and Blue Lodge Guide. New York : Redding & Co., 1889 — Source.
#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo Day 29
Do demons ride
The tail of a comet
And angels descend
In meteor showers
Does the man on the Moon
Know all our shenanigans
And the proud Sun laugh
At our daily humdrum
Do constellations shift
To rewrite horoscopes
Or the planets conspire
To decide fortunes
We gaze upon the stars
In hope and despair
Wishing for wings
And fairytale havens
Where diamonds rain
And the grass is emerald
While our blue-green orb
Screams to be heard;
In worshiping the skies
Gods, new and old
We callously decried
Our Earth’s demise
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Ignatius Donnelly. Ragnarok: The Age of Fire and Gravel. New York, D. Appleton and Company, 1883 — Source.
#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo Day 28
I gazed at the lavish sprays
Swaying in the distance
Our car raised dust trails
Leaving them behind us
I wanted to see them close,
The tender sakura
In a baby pink posy
Yet we drove past
For we didn’t have time
To halt and admire
Radiant blooms of spring
Already in the autumn
Of our weary existence
We were afraid
That a few moments wait
Would keep us delayed
So, we zipped past them;
I held on to that memory
Of blossoms of cherry –
Delicate crystal baubles
On boughs laden heavily,
To turn them into poetry.
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Edmund Gosse. In Russet and Silver. Chicago: Stone & Kimball, 1894 — Source.
Blue Pen Strokes 