Thursday, July 12, 2018

Some Poems published at Poets The Original

POETS The Original is “A community for poets”. I'm very happy to be accepted into this community.

The Shed

The ocher colored water
Washed out by thick raindrops
Continues running in the ditch

Behind the tattered spider web
A black stag beetle crawls
Across the ripples of bleached wood

The glass of the panes is dirty
Some were broken, some cracked
The wind whiffs into the shed

A 20 watt bulb hangs from the ceiling
Swinging a little back and forth
And with it the dim cone of light

Three broken parts selected for disposal
Set aside and put away meticulously
More won’t be cleaned up today

So the shed will remain unchanged
What it is and was – neat redundancy
Until the Greek calends

Luccombe Chine

From the top of the chine
Strolling down the ravine
On steps along the purling brook

You lost yourself in an ancient book
We’ve bought at Barney’s Emporium
You remember? Next to the crematorium

You close the book and suddenly
With awe you recognize the scenery
Your feet dance down so maidenly
Oh, my sweet goddess of venery

Vines joining willows and the bushes
We’re heading for the tea room’s entrance
Not rushing, but looking at the rushes
And smelling the rose’s unfurling fragrance

The antediluvian kings colonised the world
All the Gods who play in the mythological dramas
In all legends from all lands were from far Atlantis.
©1968 by Donovan (Donovan Phillips Leitch)

Or Mention My Name in Atlantis

What now is known as an ocean
Once was a continent
The ancients called Atlantis
Votan and Kukulkan to the West
Egyptian gods to the East

And farther East the Garden of Eden
And East of Eden the Elysian Fields

The Ox
The ox had driven the Golden Cart
On which all wisdom was displayed

The House
In The House there dwelled the sage
To tell the future and the right

The Camel
To ride the continent in disguise
To cross the desert’s sand and stones

The Door
To knock on the lonely door
And be admitted to the room

The Window
To look out of the window to the West
Waiting patiently for the sun to set

The Hook
Saddle bags and outer garments
The hook would hold them for a night

The Weapon
The weapon lay hidden but ready
To be wielded against the enemy

The Wall
The wall was high and treacherous
And no one went across the coping

The Wheel
They turned the wheel constantly
The reason was lost in days of yore

The Hand
The thief’s hand mummified long ago
Now passed through hand and hand

The Palm of the Hand
There were obscure ciphers
Written in the palm of the hand

The Goad
They used the wooden goad
To herd their cattle, sheep, and goats

The Water
The muddy waters of the brook
Moisten fields of grains and roots

The Serpent
The little serpent in the thief’s hand
Rubbed off its former skin

The Fish
Abundant fish in streams and rivers
Only the occasional wanderer to fish for them

The Eye
The sage would issue charms and amulets
To ward off any curse or evil eye

The Mouth
The mouth has opened in pain and distress
To yell for help amidst the vastness of the heather

The Papyrus
Nothing on the papyrus is of the common man
All that is known is twisted hagiography

The Needle Eye
So far we have ridden the camel
Just to be stopped at the Needle Eye

The Head
The head knows and the heart feels
And the head goes to where the heart leads

The Tooth
The ancient tooth of the dragon
Still used to write powerful charms

The Mark
We wear the mark of Atlantis
Given by the priestess or the priest

When Atlantis sank into the ocean
The ancients manned vessels and fled
To Kukulkan and Votan in the West
And the Egyptian gods in the East

Deep in the Jungle

Deep down in the shady greenery
Of the Amazon rain forest
A butterfly is fluttering
In a ray of light reaching down
While clouds and storms are building up
The tiny butterfly unleashes
A tropical storm, a hurricane

The broad-leaved forests accommodate
Swarms of monarch butterflies
Streaming up and down
Below the green leaves
Flitter to and fro
In the abyss of shadow and light
Chatter round and round
Until the hurricane sweeps through the forests
Scattering the butterflies

After the storm has passed
The butterflies gather and fly
Above the green leaves flapping below
The giant swarm migrates
To the sunny south

And deep in the rain forest
Beneath glossy leaves
Another butterfly
Is trying hard
To unleash a hurricane

Butterfly swarm shows up on Denver radar system
Butterfly effect

Midnight Sun

Midnight sun circling
Above the Nordic horizon
In our dreams
The eldfjall did not break out

Dust has scarred the meadows
Fire has wrinkled the fields

Let’s not man the catafalques
But go for the longships
To seek new land and destiny

In our dreams
We row under the midnight sun
In our dreams
We reach the pastures afar

Let’s not man the catafalques
But launch the longships

The midnight sun is guiding us
To reach new shore and pasture

eldfjall – volcano


Where are the merry folks?
Where are dance and song?
The streets are void
The river slow
No boat on the water
The city languishes

Even the sun hides
Behind thin clouds

But maybe it’s just
Una pausa di mezzogiorno
When the world stops turning
And man sighs in his nap

Then the sun comes back
For a gorgeous sunset

The city comes to life
Boats cruise on the water
The river glows
The streets bustle
We join dance and song
We are the merry folks

Letters Left

After a while
They found
Their love had left
Just left

And then each wrote
I don’t love you anymore

And only shortly
They started
Erasing letters

The letters left
Were reading
I love you

St. Oswald’s Church

Coarse stone
Moss and years

Whitewashed wall
Oozing collected prayers

Son of Æthelfrith
His hand not to perish

The reverent
Blessing the solemn parish

With the flow

In the river flow
We look into ripples
As they come and go
Maybe a crown tipples

Looking deeper down
We perceive the riddles
Has left so far unknown
Or purposely in diddles

We might foolishly
Assume knowing secrets
Takes unselfishly
That’s given sans regrets

In the river flow
We perceive no riddles
Keep the secrets alow
And our mind just twiddles

Block of flats
Is taking
    In the


That the midst
Is only the beginning

That midsummer
Is such a long dream

That a summer
May last a lifetime

That all must end
But this midsummer

The following prompts were used:

Luccombe Chine
#POETSLINEPROMPTS (unfurling fragrance), hosted and invited by +Cherry A.

#imageby +karen hayward
Hosted and invited by +karen Hayward

Letters Left
#PoetsLinePrompts letters left

St. Oswald’s Church
invited by +Wendy - Empathic Tigress

With the flow
hosted and invited by +Bubbly and reinvited by +karen hayward


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