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 Aug 2016
PJ Poesy
Hollowness came of lightning strike
long before my meeting
that *****, muscular oak. It was
always that way. I knew no different
of it.

Its charred orifice spoke of
an interloper,
an intruder whose presence
carved fire within,
creating sooty vacuity.

Marvelous survival instinct however,
shown by this tree's greening
each Spring, taught me
perseverance. My own lightning
strikes to be weathered as well,
but perhaps not with as much ardor.

Vehemence and passion can still
live within internal voids.
I have witnessed many furry
and feathered creatures raise brood
from the scarred hole of that oak.
How is it I know this is good?

For a fuzzy feeling of wonder,
still somehow stirs reliance in
desire outside this emptiness.

I see the reflection of light
in the critter's eyes which emerges
from darkness which has kept
it safe. Yet now, hunger encourages
it to roam from its dwelling.

Am I the same?
 Aug 2016
Mike Adam
Gentle rustle and
creak of bamboo

Far off soothing flute
and soft drum, gentle
mist caressing marsh

Barefoot monks pad
roads accepting simple
alms of curry, rice;
Blessings and incense
float on smooth air.

Sudden cacophony of
mynah explode the grove, a
steady chant bubbles under
the noise, some new symphony
of hunger below bloodshot sky.

Dogs militate exercise,
giving voice, cat slips in
knowing, paws daddy whiskers.

Hawking cough of the headman
announcing his non-demise-
neighbourly sighs.

Crab unburrows and scurries
aside from sand to lapping tide
to feast on volitional jelly who
come inshore to breed and die,
so many alien pearls strung
glistening along the strand.
 Jun 2016
Sarah
A bee
floats over a
blossom
and his wings
are one
with vision

living seems
so easy
when the hardest
parts are
hidden.
Bucolic piedmont woodland avenues , where rain clouds touch the hillside after welcome showers have passed
Where pungent fields of green native wild grass connect ones place
with his past
Red-tailed Hawk sentries stand guard o'er Loblolly Pine forest
Contemplative Blue Herons work scenic marshland unnoticed
Land of Pink Dogwood , Cane and blackberry thicket
Of riparian wonders , foggy cattle- worn bottom land , lake dancers that twirl morning side West Point , Lanier and Oconee inlets
To rural lanes colored with the blessings of home* .....
Copyright 16 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
the sound of a wave lapping,
summer thickens

and suddenly everything is
vaguely surreal, under the
hidden stomach of the stars

ghosts of silver struggle
in the white light.

when the water splashes
little islands croon.

love, rescues me from
the millions of pieces
where i lie scattered.
Thank you to everybody for reading and commenting it means the world to me!!!!
 Jun 2016
South by Southwest
Dust flowers up from the Chilton County dusk
Rust is flaking off the pickup that has a skunk musk

Bullet , the blue tick hound from your sleeve pulls it
Could it be another hot day in August , would it ?

Peaches have last month gone to fill the niches
Beaches at the river are low , full of leeches

Summertime in Alabama is a long ******
Funnier than that song , swing low number

Gathering distant dark blue clouds that are a mattering
Battering thunder rolling , lightning shattering

Huge drops splattering on clay so Rouge
Deluge now soaking , coming down like a luge

Passing with one loud Crack blasting
Massing clouds now are just in a fasting
 Jun 2016
Valsa George
The afternoon was excessively humid
The earth seemed a seething hot furnace
Dark clouds were gathering overhead
Lightning drew florescent patterns in the sky
Thunder boomed and rumbled
A few sparse drops of water hit the window pane
The air grew dark, leaves shivered
Soon the rain pelted down in torrents
Drumming on the corrugated tin roofs

Spreading a dark curtain between the eye and the sky
It poured down in full fury for about an hour
In no time it flooded the ditches and hollows
But its might slackened and it vanished as quickly
As it had come, like a messenger on an urgent errand

The day was dying and I witnessed another rain
The rain of insects into the sequestered freedom of the night
Termites and white ants, sleeping in the hollows
Suddenly emerged from their lairs in thousands
Out of every crack and cranny, every fissure and hole
From under every boulder and brick
Winged termites emerged, fluttering about dreamily
Never knowing they were on their first and last flight
They all flew towards the bright light in the porch
But striking against the concrete ceiling
They fell down one by one, some losing their wings
And creeping on the floor, like wounded warriors
A quivering swarm of insects, a clumsily moving mass

This was the harvesting time for the geckos
In one and two, the lizards emerged from their hide
Flicking their tail, they stood ready for the catch
With their darting sticky tongue, they began
Devouring the insects, hastily cramming their stomachs
Until they could hold no more

When the insects began invading the inner space
I switched off all the lights and went to bed
The cool air and the sonorous but rhythmic chants of the frogs
Put my sleepy eyes into sound slumber
Early morning as I woke up
I saw the porch strewn with filmy wings of the termites
They lay like scattered chaff after the corn has been stored
Also some weak survivors, staggering to their end

I thought, to what bleak fate, the exodus of insects
Had taken off on their wings for their maiden flight!
The other day when it had rained after a dry spell and soon after the rain had stopped, I witnessed winged ants in thousands taking into the sky..... another rain!!
 Mar 2016
PJ Poesy
Poised on current of splendor
Flight feathers outstretched, strong
Fledgling hears his mother's call
Brave release draws baby bird to song

Swooping beyond slipping branches
Resplendence in clear air carries
Joy of freedom from high nest
Moment in waiting no long tarries

Whisp of breeze in taking
With life pulsing heart and wings
A humming bird can't pretend
That he is at all another thing

Constant is our evolution
And rainbows do reappear
Some encircling breathtaking beauty
These ruby-throated dears

Hum and buzz of fluttery wonder
Nectar is yours for taking
Joie de vivre as you spin by me
Jouissance and felicity making

You whisper in my ear and tickle
Tempting words for me
You know my meaning may be fickle
As I find, you've set me free
I like humming birds, and they seem to like me.
 Sep 2015
Dark n Beautiful
Despite the surf conditions
I am going in, I am having the
last splash of the summer,
That’s filled with swimming,
the fragrance of the sunscreen,
and the laughter of the playing children
Despite the rolling of the thunder vikings

The dance of those umbrellas,
to the musical sound of the wind
I am going in,

The sea and salty breeze,
Would no longer moisturize my face,
The sand would no longer, tickle my toes
and soon the frigid winter chill will swallow us whole
Leaving the sandy beaches, completely deserted
With the remains of dead Sanderlings birds on the shore
and no more three-toed imprints left behind for us to enjoy.

so, I am going in the water
 Sep 2015
Sjr1000
As poets
we listen for the songs
of the singing trees,
There is no road map as to where to go,
Our GPS, it doesn't know,
Goggle maps hasn't gotten there yet,
The internet will tell you what it knows -
Some rehab
some restaurant
some business selling shoes.

It's not on Facebook,
My phone may be smart
but it doesn't know a thing
about the songs of the singing trees.

My Twitter account was attacked by a cat,
I swear I tried to rescue it,
But it tweeted away
as it got jumped over the fence.
The t.v. drones on and on,
HD pictures explode.

Our eyes, tho, are far away from all this,
Our voices, they long to harmonize
with the songs of the eons,
The songs of the singing trees.

You and me and Thoreau
sitting by the pond, the river, the ocean,
All day long
in this solitude we know,
Watching the light dissolve,
The moon, it rises too,
While we
together
me and you,
Thoreau too,
Listening so carefully
for the lilting epics
of
the songs of the singing trees.
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