"aviated" poems
Kerry Rain
Now I know from whence the
excess water comes from, when
our river floods ******* house.
The catchment area between the
mountains, back here in Kerry,
is an Atlantic funnel.
Ventry winds, West laden, with
an aviated tide, make land fall
just below, in the aqua plain.
From here, it heads for the Cork-ed
plughole, where its route is marked
by bridges along the way to Mallow.
Finn.
8 March 2019
House sitting in
Co Kerry.
(Visited Ventry yesterday)
Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 4:30 AM UTC
I don't know the realisation
of a vacation
of motivations
My own
Truth is rude
reality crude
Beauty eludes
This zone
So aviated
Emaciated
Unimancipated
Empty
Time escapes
Protruder rapes
I can't think
Thus I drink
There is no hope
To cope
Eternal rope
A necklace
A brace
Losing race
Hard case
I
Was YOUR vacation
Emancipation
Salvation
YOUR
I was your
Door
Floor
Your
Rug
Drug
Biting bed bug
Me
I can't fight
Not right
Can't take flight
Bottle of *****
Won't win just lose
Shades of blues
I cry
Lie
Wish I'd die
Complicate
Break
Fake
Feed me
Fear
Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 12:14 AM UTC
Swords make the men yield
On a desolate field
With no vision but the night
Careful not to crawl upon those individual frights
Those that say,
To save it for a better day
Underestimate the courage
You bring with just one motive
Standing upon the crowd
Chanting ever so loud
In the name of noble men
Who thrive for the ambition again
Darting with arms full,
"They won't escape the bull!"
It aviated across grassy paths
To show all those who turn the roaring wrath
But such of a warrior you stood,
Did what no man could
And flushed the darkness into its ditch
Only showing the light of it
Of all the strength and love that posses your heart
This war was not seen from the start
Though, you gathered the men
Gracefully,
Lending your hand to the fallen friend
Wars come and go,
But this is what you shall always know:
You are the fire
Igniting a homes ablaze even higher
You are the air
Having your essence everywhere
You are the water
Flowing freely through all slaughter
You are the Earth
The honor which gives our lives all of its worth
Though elemental creations do not suffice,
The mastery of the beautiful bull within you,
From morning
To night.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
Chiroptera
They are born with hand like
Wings of membrane clad digits
they spread to fly
Aviated, navigated
For nocturnal hunts
In perfect darkness
Where others feign
They cry a pulse
Echolocating
Mates or competition
Images of prey
And images of space
The night returns their sound
They are quick
Delicate wings
Stretch to out maneuver
Enemy or prey
But membrane tissue tears easily
Sensitive skin with receptors
Like fingertips
Small tears regrow... regenerate
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 4:19 AM UTC