"quartzite" poems
Rain drop ruins my melancholy
Rain drop brushes my border collie;
his tail wags across my shin,
breaking my ever-building reverie.
“Smash that”, says the rock to its falling neighbor,
letting it go without attempt at a rumbling tremor.
“Smash your metamorphic protolith,
sedimentary is your bona fide nature”.
The quartzite stone has no room to reject but yield,
but so behold: I catch it with my awakened shield.
Lays in my hand the metamorphic stone,
Ecstatic to be shiny and free.
Broken from my reverie is where I sometimes wish to be,
for there I meet my life’s expenditure,
my loved reality.
There the marks of my imprint awaken; there I become me.
Fall then rain! Do so duly... for I vow to be
the rightful branch of your sprouting tree.
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 1:38 AM UTC
Amphorae, beautifully crafted,
Delicate, exquisite, fire-glazed,
Heated in jumbo kilns,
Lovely molded necks,
Opaque pigments,
Quartzite residue-
Symbolic, timeless, utilitarian
Valued- with xanthic yellow zirconium
Oct 23, 2019
Oct 23, 2019 at 7:26 PM UTC
Green grass, over the fence
Oh, how she wished something would happen.
Sometimes, I could imagine a duo as Hector and Debbie,
Trusting the process and accepting prophecies.
Things like Hector's passion about music,
Persuading rhythm alike classic romances.
Of how he wanders histories behind every key,
He strums his fingers in swift, never off-key.
Hector is somewhat lucky to have a sister like Rowanne,
Checking his contents for loopholes, because then she found one.
Chapter Two, 'Hector goes into a sponge state and has a satori',
To the point where he meets a maiden, named Robin.
Conglomerate, quartzite, sand stone, and cigarette ****
Why not, let's seek the mighty Debbie's hunt?
Her hook of appreciation is beyond inspiring,
One's looking at the bright, fuzzy picture in the magazine,
Yes, she thought.
Chapter Twelve, Debbie had truck lessons taught by Lenny.
He asked permission from his Dad in the field of gloom.
Debbie and Patty stood inside a thriving mountain of rhododendrons.
Hoping it wasn't too late, she thought the word 'soon'.
A poet would like to bid its period in this closing narrative,
She would like to walk further and swim deeper to the medium paged papers.
This selection of scenarios frames to the advocates,
Criss-cross, criss-cross,
Oh, how she wished something would happen.
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 5:26 AM UTC
She dances before the echo
Swaying to the ways
of calcification
From the reverberation
pounding on the
Shalerock's walls
solid dreams are fossilized
flickering within sparks of quartzite expectations
Apr 15, 2024
Apr 15, 2024 at 2:23 AM UTC
This rock
Handled
Pulsing
Alive?
My little
Alien
Friends
This small
Quartzite
Pule is
Universal
Love
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 4:14 AM UTC
A prairie skink on the edge
warming his stripes
on the granite palisade -
crystalline quartzite
redder than the short sun
amid the prickly pear
above the cling trees
and cliff swallows
swirling for the bugs
from spit mud hollows
twitter down where
the snapper lifts a
stone head from the
murk still water
below the falls
logs cans and tumble
down rocks and ******
dams until the blue
tale fades away.
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 5:25 PM UTC