"saguaros" poems - Hello Poetry

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

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Feb 24, 2016

Feb 24, 2016 at 7:45 AM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Desert day

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

16

Along this pilgrimage made with candles lit by the sun, a holy desert communion seeking connection to the one, here in this fiery church I have found lost souls, sun bleached bones they drink the moon and sun saguaros wander to and fro all are parched none are full cactus leaning, I am kneeling here at this earthly altar awaiting resurrection I have come to pray watching nights and days these veils burn away.

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Nov 11, 2014

Nov 11, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Desert communion

Along this pilgrimage made with candles lit by the sun, a holy desert communion seeking connection to the one, here in this fiery church I have found lost souls, sun bleached bones they drink the moon and sun saguaros wander to and fro all are parched none are full cactus leaning, I am kneeling here at this earthly altar awaiting resurrection I have come to pray watching nights and days these veils burn away.

13

Melt with me in dry rivers against saguaro lined trails until night slices in slivers; fractals of sage and coyote tails howl against saguaros and Hohokam trails where a fingernailed eclipse fractures an image of sage brushed tails in a rhythmic tune stoked on melodious lips. A fingernail moon splinters an arid eclipse as stars and clay erode, fading to dust circles in hummed tunes on July-desert lips. Pink-purple fingers stretch across dusk until the parched night crescendos in slivers and melts away in me, filling beds and dry rivers with the stars and burnt clay, eroding to dust as pink-purple fingers strum out a song in the dusk.

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Oct 11, 2010

Oct 11, 2010 at 5:37 AM UTC

kim-keith

Sonoran Song

Melt with me in dry rivers against saguaro lined trails until night slices in slivers; fractals of sage and coyote tails howl against saguaros and Hohokam trails where a fingernailed eclipse fractures an image of sage brushed tails in a rhythmic tune stoked on melodious lips. A fingernail moon splinters an arid eclipse as stars and clay erode, fading to dust circles in hummed tunes on July-desert lips. Pink-purple fingers stretch across dusk until the parched night crescendos in slivers and melts away in me, filling beds and dry rivers with the stars and burnt clay, eroding to dust as pink-purple fingers strum out a song in the dusk.

16

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

0

Sep 11, 2016

Sep 11, 2016 at 8:49 PM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Sonoran desert

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

16

Sonoran Song Melt with me in dry rivers against saguaro lined trails until night slices in slivers; fractals of sage and coyote tails howl against saguaros and Hohokam trails where a fingernailed eclipse fractures an image of sage brushed tails in a rhythmic tune stoked on melodious lips. A fingernail moon splinters an arid eclipse as stars and clay erode, fading to dust circles in hummed tunes on July-desert lips. Pink-purple fingers stretch across dusk until the parched night crescendos in slivers and melts away in me, filling beds and dry rivers with the stars and burnt clay, eroding to dust as pink-purple fingers strum out a song in the dusk.

0

Sep 8, 2010

Sep 8, 2010 at 2:16 AM UTC

kim-keith

Sonoran Song

Sonoran Song Melt with me in dry rivers against saguaro lined trails until night slices in slivers; fractals of sage and coyote tails howl against saguaros and Hohokam trails where a fingernailed eclipse fractures an image of sage brushed tails in a rhythmic tune stoked on melodious lips. A fingernail moon splinters an arid eclipse as stars and clay erode, fading to dust circles in hummed tunes on July-desert lips. Pink-purple fingers stretch across dusk until the parched night crescendos in slivers and melts away in me, filling beds and dry rivers with the stars and burnt clay, eroding to dust as pink-purple fingers strum out a song in the dusk.

17

Cool cloud shrouded air, here where I find myself surrounded by giants, legends, these mountains I am miniscule as one grain of sand the people here are giant, green saguaros holey, with birds that live within they are fit with wild reaching arms guardians of the desert land anchored, deeply grounded in this whirling vortex unhurriedly they grow blooming yellow flowered with petals that pale and fall they are true friends that I have come to know

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Dec 15, 2015

Dec 15, 2015 at 10:47 AM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Saguaro people

Cool cloud shrouded air, here where I find myself surrounded by giants, legends, these mountains I am miniscule as one grain of sand the people here are giant, green saguaros holey, with birds that live within they are fit with wild reaching arms guardians of the desert land anchored, deeply grounded in this whirling vortex unhurriedly they grow blooming yellow flowered with petals that pale and fall they are true friends that I have come to know

15

--- fuzzy denizens of desert strange, unearthly, every one they wake up softly to the morning reaching up to find the sun saguaros, huge, regal, majestic silent in their special ways pincushions the size of quarters brush protect from the sun's rays from the blazing heat of noontime to the freezing winter's gloom these living jewels survive the onslaught even burgeoning with blooms! looking out from my front porch there I see a bird who's home is made within the side of a saguaro within its chicks get warmth and shade I see beavertail and golden barrel mammalaria in special pots lining up along the ledges of where I sit, my favorite spot before the sun has even risen this is my safe and holy place then i feel the creeping warmth of the sun upon my face this is where I worship singing though the neighbors find it odd this is where I thank my Maker this is where I talk to God SoulSurvivor (C) 1/11/2016

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Jan 13, 2016

Jan 13, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC

SoulSurvivor

cacti

--- fuzzy denizens of desert strange, unearthly, every one they wake up softly to the morning reaching up to find the sun saguaros, huge, regal, majestic silent in their special ways pincushions the size of quarters brush protect from the sun's rays from the blazing heat of noontime to the freezing winter's gloom these living jewels survive the onslaught even burgeoning with blooms! looking out from my front porch there I see a bird who's home is made within the side of a saguaro within its chicks get warmth and shade I see beavertail and golden barrel mammalaria in special pots lining up along the ledges of where I sit, my favorite spot before the sun has even risen this is my safe and holy place then i feel the creeping warmth of the sun upon my face this is where I worship singing though the neighbors find it odd this is where I thank my Maker this is where I talk to God SoulSurvivor (C) 1/11/2016

31

Saguaros stood like spiny-sentinels as I sped along the Camino, alone, top down. Warm winds & tequila-breath burned my shot-eyes when I first spotted the thumbing Lupita, way south of Ensenada on good 'ole 1. Her graceful toothy-smile under her full lips seemed gracious as I pulled up alongside her, kicked the door open. She hopped in & we catapulted with her hair streaming & brown-skin shining in the falling sun. We hit high speeds smiling as we continued south, driving into the coming night. Twinkling-stars & static-filled La Bamba-tunes kept us company. We discussed sacred-mysteries in broken languages, later, counted each others toes, rubbed noses in my bedroll. In the morning, she was gone left me a note & the ruffled rose she had pinned in her raven-black hair. As I drove off in a dreamy-state, somewhat disappointed, a spiraling one, a lone black bird trailed behind me, I'm sure it was her. Soon, she disappeared from my rear view memory, but never out of my mind.

0

Feb 7, 2014

Feb 7, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC

jonny-angel

Never Out of My Mind (The Thumbing Lupita)

Saguaros stood like spiny-sentinels as I sped along the Camino, alone, top down. Warm winds & tequila-breath burned my shot-eyes when I first spotted the thumbing Lupita, way south of Ensenada on good 'ole 1. Her graceful toothy-smile under her full lips seemed gracious as I pulled up alongside her, kicked the door open. She hopped in & we catapulted with her hair streaming & brown-skin shining in the falling sun. We hit high speeds smiling as we continued south, driving into the coming night. Twinkling-stars & static-filled La Bamba-tunes kept us company. We discussed sacred-mysteries in broken languages, later, counted each others toes, rubbed noses in my bedroll. In the morning, she was gone left me a note & the ruffled rose she had pinned in her raven-black hair. As I drove off in a dreamy-state, somewhat disappointed, a spiraling one, a lone black bird trailed behind me, I'm sure it was her. Soon, she disappeared from my rear view memory, but never out of my mind.

56

Craggy spires atop a canyon wall, against a pure blue sky and sun; the creek's flowing over tiny bridges, and the day is only partly done. Twenty miles away, lies Tucson, you can see it's skyline shimmer; but here is nature, in the raw, those are memories that linger. Saguaros stand in stately fashion, amongst the rock and barren land; the views, they take away your breath, the vistas sweeping, wide and grand. It's 80 in this later month of winter, this freaky temperature is strange; I wear a t-shirt and my hiking shorts, out here - out in this open range. Sabino Canyon is a place majestic, reminding me of why I love the West; the sky, a vast and huge umbrella, the splendid canyon, takes care of all the rest.

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Feb 22, 2017

Feb 22, 2017 at 9:20 PM UTC

david-lessard

Sabino Canyon.

Craggy spires atop a canyon wall, against a pure blue sky and sun; the creek's flowing over tiny bridges, and the day is only partly done. Twenty miles away, lies Tucson, you can see it's skyline shimmer; but here is nature, in the raw, those are memories that linger. Saguaros stand in stately fashion, amongst the rock and barren land; the views, they take away your breath, the vistas sweeping, wide and grand. It's 80 in this later month of winter, this freaky temperature is strange; I wear a t-shirt and my hiking shorts, out here - out in this open range. Sabino Canyon is a place majestic, reminding me of why I love the West; the sky, a vast and huge umbrella, the splendid canyon, takes care of all the rest.

20

The rising moon and setting sun share A private dance in the magenta sky Late in September, high abone the newborn river Overgrown with ivy and nettles and other creeping things The desert toads sing serenades to silence The wren the rabbit, and the dove conduct a nervous waltz Ever watchfull for the hawk and the owl, eager to cut in The endless tango of life and death electrifies the air On the hill, saguaros raise their arms to heaven To worship the sun in their ancient ways Bellow, by the river's edge a playful breeze Sends bronze leaves to pirouette through fairy corridors. Tall trees take root about the timid estuary Enwrapped by sun baked stone and wreathed by mountains The desert and the river Dance together in the sweet autumn air.

0

Aug 12, 2016

Aug 12, 2016 at 5:30 PM UTC

johnathan-juliano

The dancers

The rising moon and setting sun share A private dance in the magenta sky Late in September, high abone the newborn river Overgrown with ivy and nettles and other creeping things The desert toads sing serenades to silence The wren the rabbit, and the dove conduct a nervous waltz Ever watchfull for the hawk and the owl, eager to cut in The endless tango of life and death electrifies the air On the hill, saguaros raise their arms to heaven To worship the sun in their ancient ways Bellow, by the river's edge a playful breeze Sends bronze leaves to pirouette through fairy corridors. Tall trees take root about the timid estuary Enwrapped by sun baked stone and wreathed by mountains The desert and the river Dance together in the sweet autumn air.

16

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

0

Nov 8, 2018

Nov 8, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC

ca-guilfoyle

Desert day

On days like this cool, with little winds desert birds forage for sticks they build nests perched in cactus some build green in palo verde trees always I think of baby birds in spring hatchlings, the fledglings that fly I travel far beyond the noise of towns watch the movement of cooling clouds the roundness of rain upon the ground the grey banked scurrilous skies of hurried birds, their silhouettes before a storm daisies that close, cold amid the stones beneath where snakes and lizards go slither and crawl in this landscape of saguaros and I, ever tethered can only dream to fly.

16

I want to take acid under an open sky Listen to tame impala and drink orange juice I want to lay on the earth and let dust coat me See stars glisten, shining upon saguaros And for once not just because I want to be high its been a long road, still a long road to go I want to melt into life. My labor to bear fruits Believe in myself and be cocky cause its been a long road, still a long road to go. but i know where the **** im going now.

0

Feb 11, 2016

Feb 11, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC

zac-walter

Untitled

I want to take acid under an open sky Listen to tame impala and drink orange juice I want to lay on the earth and let dust coat me See stars glisten, shining upon saguaros And for once not just because I want to be high its been a long road, still a long road to go I want to melt into life. My labor to bear fruits Believe in myself and be cocky cause its been a long road, still a long road to go. but i know where the **** im going now.

10

A cicada to a tree A flower in the earth; Ties in life Timing way before man Trickling little stream -Into a lake Droplets to the ground Set a cycle going again Saguaros in the sand A woodpecker flying about Sharing nutrients together Rarely ever found Season change as it may Everything will come and go First the cicada in a tree And the streams constant flow Crystals take shape in time Individual beauty they each hold- But a jeweler is always picky The deal is one for one The birds always flee Right where the grass is greenest- Gone is the icy past Although the memory never forgotten

0

Mar 6, 2020

Mar 6, 2020 at 1:51 AM UTC

M_S_unspoken

Bonds

A cicada to a tree A flower in the earth; Ties in life Timing way before man Trickling little stream -Into a lake Droplets to the ground Set a cycle going again Saguaros in the sand A woodpecker flying about Sharing nutrients together Rarely ever found Season change as it may Everything will come and go First the cicada in a tree And the streams constant flow Crystals take shape in time Individual beauty they each hold- But a jeweler is always picky The deal is one for one The birds always flee Right where the grass is greenest- Gone is the icy past Although the memory never forgotten

24

An intro Of instrumental Snow— Captures This Void, And it’s not Winter Anymore. Tracing This triangle, Temporarily Drawn in. The pavement Expanded To the Milky Way, And I escaped The presence, Inside. Warmth Of fire Over cold Steel, Unveiling Someone’s View, Still. Sparks Flew over Desert Dust, A phantom In this present time. Saguaros Lined Hills At Dusk. Manifesting, Stolen hearts Stealing others’. Otherworldly, As if To discern No difference Between This life And the last.

0

Jul 11, 2018

Jul 11, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC

JenInk

Traces

An intro Of instrumental Snow— Captures This Void, And it’s not Winter Anymore. Tracing This triangle, Temporarily Drawn in. The pavement Expanded To the Milky Way, And I escaped The presence, Inside. Warmth Of fire Over cold Steel, Unveiling Someone’s View, Still. Sparks Flew over Desert Dust, A phantom In this present time. Saguaros Lined Hills At Dusk. Manifesting, Stolen hearts Stealing others’. Otherworldly, As if To discern No difference Between This life And the last.

44