"wrawl" poems
few things can calm me - the wrawl in the rain
chasse on the glasses, soirée on the pane
atoms of home - blood & bone - body's wane (and they're)
falling in ribbons of pewter so plain
fog laying softly, the wafting unterse
soundlessly haunting the grounds by its curse
ripples on crystalline mirrors disperse (in the)
capable hands of the watersong verse
nubes - replace the azure with the grey
bouncing the pavement with vestige of play
spirit in footfall, the speckled ballet (for the)
ruse to confuse sprightly night with the day
few things can calm me - the wrawl in the rain
please, weeping clouds, keep the crazy ones sane!
and as you slow down, i'll pray you regain (all your)
previous sorrow so we'll feel the same
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
In Quebec’s quiet winter wee
A season’s joyful jubilee
Crafted mid cliffs towering tall
Sculptures sitting in silent awe
Glistening gems grown from sea spree
Blue-blush hushed by green-glow glee
Fascinating formed frozen freeze
Sketched a skillful sibylline sprawl
In Quebec’s quiet winter.
A sublime sight stunning to see
Until spring summons the flow free
Tuning it to a fast free fall
A raging race, a roaring wrawl
Go gaze and kneel at nature’s knee
In Quebec’s quiet winter.
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 2:25 PM UTC
O my precious flower of amethyst,
Who blooms in the early spring,
And whose dreadful fate befalls him fast
For any of my everlasting love to last.
To you I will go forth and sing,
As once did my lord, the Sun King,
Of your amaranthine beauty, by which I am bewitched.
By the hands of the West Wind did you fall,
Where you withered in front of your god of light.
For I, your death was my most tragic loss.
But if I had stopped that discus in toss,
I would have prevented this plight
From ever befalling my sight,
And never would I have listened to you wrawl.
To the Messenger did the Sun King flee for comfort,
But I, without you, had no one to go.
Even in death, your fairness remains,
In the shape of the hyacinth, forever contained.
My love for you still overflows,
Even amidst all the woe,
But now, alone, I shall go into summer.
Apr 23, 2020
Apr 23, 2020 at 10:59 PM UTC
Day by day, hour by hour, extirpation draweth neigh
No one sees, no one cares, Destruction from On High
As is in days of Noah, so it is today
Oblivious oblivious, to the coming Judgement Day
People scurry to and fro, ignore the Writing on the Wall
It is too late it is too late, soon you’ll weep and wail and wrawl
Foretold this all has been, by the Prophecies of Old
Destruction Doom Damnation, these three will now unfold
Read The Book of Revelation, chapter ten plus ten
Number fifteen the verse…the Judgement of all men
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC