to infinite realms
far above and deep below
as a tree
standing half lotus.
Restless dogs sigh
and settle entranced
by soft pencil
strokes that shade
drawing out sound
as thread from a skein
weaving a moment of
© 2017 Ontheland
Lately I’ve started coloring as a way of relaxing. The photo is of my first coloring project shown to provide the context for this Monday quadrille, written using the word ‘sound’ for dVerse Poets Pub.
Worry about nuclear theatre
may be a sign of privilege,
having something to lose.
Jet fumes accent grey yellow sunset sky,
dog nails patter on bare wood floor,
cats sit near guarding opposite directions.
In war zones bombs blitz everyday
death is near, some say they’ve lost all fear,
my distant mind strains to comprehend.
I always wonder about my fur friends,
their reliance on us, not privy to our plans
yet much goes on in sky above and earth below,
down the road and millions of miles away
and I know nothing of it.
Darkness has fallen into steady gnawing and
this human mind calms knowing about
not knowing much at all.
Earth peoples dreaming love
and peace finesse to savour,
come drizzle this:
Deep thoughts silently summoned
Rallentando time to wonder
Inner depths rippling glissandi
Zero-carbon electricity buzz
Zephyrs whispering clean techno jazz
Longed for fruits of planning revival
Eros sighs earth songs of pleasure.
The idea to ‘drizzle’ came from Mish at dVerse Poets Pub who hosted Monday’s Quadrille prompt.
Birds sound in the trees,
young sparrows hop on fresh moss
a rabbit nibbles,
Bentley looks on in silence,
Such a peaceful evening.
Is it a conspiracy?
They seeded the clouds
Love has been raining
since dawn quenching
scorched earth cleansing
poisoned minds trickling
hate down sewers
washing away fear
swelling hearts with
courage to join in
knowing we only have
My mind and heart battered from contemplating recent actions by the United States government, I avoided a sinkhole and flew to the clouds. Now as I post this poem, I am weighed down with rage and sadness from knowing that worshipers were gunned down at a Quebec City Mosque on Sunday night. I am not sure where my opening line came from…but I have decided to leave it…a conspiracy to relieve human distress, hatred, and destruction could be a good thing.
‘Dawn’ is the word for this week’s Quadrille challenge hosted by Björn Rudberg over at dVerse Poets Pub.
A pretty octave played before a window
Beyond whose curtain grows a world crescendo.
–from ‘Overture’ by F.R. Scott
last night I heard you
interviewed on the radio.
You spoke firmly,
no panic in your voice—
my insides clenched
and the host,
I heard her heart skip—
Yes, that was an explosion nearby,
you don’t know how long
you’ll evade death….
Protest you said, demonstrate