Poet for Peace

 

Voices drown out hate
no people torn asunder
doves of peace keep watch

 

We have 100 contributions to date, and I am trying again to rope in as many contributors to the Poets for Peace challenge (in place until this the end of August). The many voices in response to this have been fantastic, and I’d love you to add yours (again, if applicable) if you can. Feel free to use an existing piece of writing or a new one asking for peace and/or about the troubled times in which we live.

Haeddre

 

 

i
It is fine to be in balance, to hear wistful
cries like invisible veins in the winds,
and see lucky, white strands amongst
the heather’s Scottish highlands type
of sobbing, and to listen as the wind speaks
in gusts; inhaling deeply as if sucking
up a thought before breathing it out
smoothly in a musical phrase.

Showing Barney

Picture (SWNS)

Sea blue sky was surf unbroken
above playful cause within
the order of cetaceans –
strokes of teal skim waters

The Leaf

Slow motion’s gentle
breath is on the breeze;
shivers of tantalising
promises deftly stroke
light hearted manner
at play,

lifting skirts for sun
to find faith in greenery
suspended from charm.
Youthful, tenacious,
innocence and naive,
hand span characteristics,
hide in clenched fists,

With Rigid Arrow

Will the brash beat
of these drums
send shivering flames
to the gods?
Will forsaking my invisible
others bring them down on me
still at odds?
Precarious is this war
of love.

Cuckoo’s Tears

do not cry and spoil
such beauty – you will never fade
into darkness and its glades
as long as there is the moonlight,
so weep no more,

nor cry for the death
of dew drops,
lying broken; coursing

Missing Infra Red Filter

Video post by @The_Photonomad.

This beautiful video inspired my write. First seen on The Photo Nomad’s blog – check out the amazing photography while you’re at it. Video shot and cut by Philip Bloom.

Source: The Missing Infrared Filter

Blue-grey steel’s cigar belly glides
ever so slowly rubbing against harsh,
smoky skies,
the passenger jet’s roar and metallic
greying temples are oblivious to the removal
of barriers
slowing to 33 and a third –
in harmony,
as if Beethoven’s 7th (2nd movement)
permeating our fibres
was a summons to a world temporarily
captured by an invisible lens – within it
an easy going dreamscape lie is being
created.
Muted walks on pavements, carpeted
with tufts of individualism, create
one of surrealism’s manifestations – filling
the landscape with a strangeness,
the mystery of someone’s characteristic
dream.
  like a
    solemn
      metronome
        finger,
          adrift
            on the timbre
              of a
                masterpiece’s
                  voice –
                    our tempo
                      is dictated
                        to by
                          its orchestral
                            maneuvers
                              dispersed
                                in
                                  waves.
                                    
Our collective gait is held in an unrushed,
undemanding control of invisible music
and in a lens’ long lashing,
hard kohl eye. We are observed.

Samsara

‘Since everything and all existence is connected’
then we will always be, and so, we will always
have you.

Kneeling on the dying repercussions
of an autumn caught just within the colder
breath and tentative icy touches of winter –
its fruition yet to unfurl –

Ingredents (Diamante) poem



Woman
Curvaceous, Mystical
Stunning, cunning, mothering
Mankind personified / Sensuality electrified

Tongue twister

Poetry challenge: Tongue twiste


Basil a blind bulldog
blatantly but boldly
barked and bit bystanders
bending backwards.
Brian the beggar bit back
biting Basil boldly, but
Belligerently, beggaring
the bad bulldog