Poetry competition CLOSED 30th May 2021 5:46pm
WINNER
slipalong
slipalong
POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE!
" I can resist anything except temptation" (Oscar Wilde)
8/31
Bring me the opulence, not the sparse
Dom Perignon in a fluted glass
served by, a nice young waiter
a look that said "see you later"
Not the air that others breathe
find the filter to my deeper needs
my cumberbund to stretch, sometimes to share
to lick the cream from each eclare
Bring me the opulence, not the sparse
Dom Perignon in a fluted glass
served by, a nice young waiter
a look that said "see you later"
Not the air that others breathe
find the filter to my deeper needs
my cumberbund to stretch, sometimes to share
to lick the cream from each eclare
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#8
a rhymed, mirrored octet
warbler
quiet
morning
alto flute
on pimento
blossoms overhead,
warble on forever,
for your nuant silver song
makes the world light up like heaven
if i were a new life given
every joy for which i long
would be like a river
healing sick when dead
portamento
streams unmute,
beaming
bright.
© Copyright 2021 May 02
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
Alma Mater
9/31
Is expectation born of race
does ethnicity, claim you a place
ability's benchmark be two faced
Too shear the white shores buttresses
The ear defenders you cant spot
Academia stuck in its own rut
fraternity, never wants a smuck
did Michael Jackson just give up?
Is expectation born of race
does ethnicity, claim you a place
ability's benchmark be two faced
Too shear the white shores buttresses
The ear defenders you cant spot
Academia stuck in its own rut
fraternity, never wants a smuck
did Michael Jackson just give up?
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#9
a rhymed, mirrored octet
hope
burn
brightly
blazing flame
send the shadows
fleeting from my head
illuminate my path
ember never till i’ve found
brighter prospects i have yearned for
since enchanting days of valour
challenges may yet abound
expose me not to wrath
ancient doubts are dead
peaceful meadows
for thy fame
quietly
yearn
© Copyright 2021 May 02
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
A wounded stag (recovery from knee surgery)
10/31
Was held, the higher ground so proud
with pain, as in a storm be bowed
crutches imprints mark the way
creaking steps, the healing hill each day
Laceration's stripes, hide bravery
hare into the tortoise, turned indeed
that wounded stag MY only SHE
filling her shoes ,
the medicine to recovery
Was held, the higher ground so proud
with pain, as in a storm be bowed
crutches imprints mark the way
creaking steps, the healing hill each day
Laceration's stripes, hide bravery
hare into the tortoise, turned indeed
that wounded stag MY only SHE
filling her shoes ,
the medicine to recovery
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#10
suave sax song
he
hangs
his blues
where revelers drink
night after night
sexist and s a x i s t
his deep-down p r a x i s
maxes out the expectations
of appreciative ladies
with painted-red lips
and long-stem glasses
some guy brain-cuffed
by t o o much booze
p l a y s t h e a s s e s
oozing e x p l e t i v e s
before he is deleted
b y s o m e
s u a v e
s a x
song
© Copyright 2021 May 04
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
Recollections of May
11/31
When Winter's had its final groan
a new coin waiting to be spent
and limbs were lightly clothed
dancing with a lightened step
Like maypole with its coloured tapes
as we skipped and laughed
the teenage month, that held the fate
forever spinning, celebrate
hold hands, never looking back
When Winter's had its final groan
a new coin waiting to be spent
and limbs were lightly clothed
dancing with a lightened step
Like maypole with its coloured tapes
as we skipped and laughed
the teenage month, that held the fate
forever spinning, celebrate
hold hands, never looking back
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#11
harvest-ready roseblooms
i remember
a girl i loved
in simple blue jeans
dark afro hair
and fulsome lips
perfect-ripe
with the kindest words
ever spoken
to hungry ears
mine consuming
her secrets
like nectar
from harvest-ready
roseblooms
her warmth
the afterlight
of summer sunsets
upon which
the moth
i cleaved
for survival
© Copyright 2021 May 05
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
Flight of the Canada Geese
12/31
The slow wing beat to cause a draught
In echelon formation as they pass
Between continent's their journey lasts
and all those miles on a tank of grass
The slow wing beat to cause a draught
In echelon formation as they pass
Between continent's their journey lasts
and all those miles on a tank of grass
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#12
acappella songs
1. song for my mother
her wings carried
the nine
no feathers plucked
from the plumage
of her vigilance.
seven years more
than ten decades
leave never-fading
diurnal melodies.
her grave hath
no grave songs
the living sing
but happy ones
where the sweat
of her brows
has left
a desolate habitation
in full bloom
© Copyright 2021 May 05
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
Unseen (acrostic)
13/31
Untapped, with the remains still capped, that well of feelings
Nestles, butterfly wings yet to waken, trapped within the chrysalis
Sleeping, dormant, awaiting the first dawn of beating
Emerging from the dark-age of dismissiveness
Eking out the time, blinkers that deleted
Night-times caverns dressed, with visions bright new mistresses
Untapped, with the remains still capped, that well of feelings
Nestles, butterfly wings yet to waken, trapped within the chrysalis
Sleeping, dormant, awaiting the first dawn of beating
Emerging from the dark-age of dismissiveness
Eking out the time, blinkers that deleted
Night-times caverns dressed, with visions bright new mistresses
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#13
acappella songs
2. song for my father
dew-water man
encountering mornings
still half asleep
underneath
the sweat
of chilly nights.
cows and goats awaiting
the kiss of kind hands
before sunburst,
his august voice
enticing fallow ground
to feed the table
spread with hungry eyes
waiting
for a cheerful whistle
to come home
bearing
fruited blessings.
© Copyright 2021 May 05
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
The wallflower`s perch
14/31
It survives, with toes its foothold
to crevice, or slim ledge
reflecting the sun, in colours so bold,
expressions of scent,
clinging to the edge
A salutary lesson; mind in isolation
fighting all the knockout blows
hanging holds, be our obsession
the screw that turns, but remain composed
It survives, with toes its foothold
to crevice, or slim ledge
reflecting the sun, in colours so bold,
expressions of scent,
clinging to the edge
A salutary lesson; mind in isolation
fighting all the knockout blows
hanging holds, be our obsession
the screw that turns, but remain composed
Written by slipalong
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POST-NaPo21 MAY CHALLENGE
#14
acappella songs
3. song for my wife
the better half
has not yet been half told;
life’s silver threads
have known not such pure gold
as shapes the heart
of one, bone of my bone,
who fills my void
where i would bleed alone.
flesh of my flesh,
living where i might die,
eternally
to dust indemnify.
© Copyright 2021 May 05
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
W/C=50
Twilight
15/31
A couch and calm companion
the vibrant day its chapter ends
her shades in violet hues
weary bones, like prayers amen's
Shake the starch that was the chore
the mattress turned
dons the dressing gown of blue velour
the sundial sees nowhere to point
A couch and calm companion
the vibrant day its chapter ends
her shades in violet hues
weary bones, like prayers amen's
Shake the starch that was the chore
the mattress turned
dons the dressing gown of blue velour
the sundial sees nowhere to point
Written by slipalong
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