Walking

walking,
a girl
alone,
I,
tired,
came upon an old tree in the woods
horizontally inclined
its leaves long ago decayed,
all missing,
hollow in the middle,
a hiding place for small creatures,
a worthy seat for me

sitting,
a girl,
alone,
I
looked up at the tall tree beside it
filled with verdant foliage
and the rustle of winged things,
invisible
but for the shaking of leaves,
and
admired,
when
onto my hand
a bare twig dropped

staring,
a girl,
alone,
I
watched it:
delicate creature, but sturdy
strongly jointed legs of six
elegant antennae, two, tickling my palm,
and an elongated body
“what a flawless disguise,”
thought I,
the girl,
alone
with
guest

walking,
the stick,
alone,
it
clung to me,
testing the strangeness of my hand
with slow motions
of graceful body parts
it climbed
calmly
encircling my wrist
like a bracelet
formed,
surprising me with its
limberness
and
capacity to hold on silky skin

lingering,
a girl,
alone,
I
experienced
this alien encounter
with fascination
and
deep respect
until,
sympathetic,
I gently placed it back on the living tree
where
it walked away
unhurriedly,
yet rapidly disappearing,
melding into noble tree

pondering,
a girl
grown,
I,
smiling,
remembered lessons barely whispered
in woodland wonder
under trees,
the tiny things
amazing me,
and,
strangely,
how a fallen stick walking
somehow
remains
a
part
of
me

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

They Swim

They swim
poor little fish
straight through the safety nets
that would hold them
in fresh water’s flow
they are too young to vote
or weave social change
into protective boundaries

They swim
through gaping holes of greed
lacking resource and means
to bind the shredded holes of ignorance

They swim
swept downstream
to river’s brackish estuary
where
the salt
through osmosis
dehydrates cells

They swim
assimilating the filth
prostitution
drug abuse
theft
abuse
bulging, murderous eyes
desperate

They swim
until
defeated
oxygen depleted
poor little fish
belly up

They float

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

The Paint Brush

paint brush
in growing hands
my dreaming progeny
experiments in bold color
unabashed, she crafts O’Keeffe in abstract
flower frolics across canvas
young fingers in the lead
such fortunate
paint brush

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Entry posted in poetry & Rictameter Verse. Bookmark the permalink.

 

A Candle Lit

a candle lit
they made too much of it
it was nothing
little flicker
casting wimpy shadows
in a dark room
filled with the hot air
that
critics
naysayers
and
waylaying souls
all
breathe
like
wing-clipped, impotent dragons
fresh from
fire gland removal surgery
nail clipping
fang filing
and
plugging their nostrils with lambs’ wool to protect against the stench
of the sulfuric lies they spew

little flicker
like stage blood
offends
in drops
the cultured, privileged eyes
now covered
but
provides
aesthetic gore
to those sheep led to the slaughtering fields of
deprivation
starvation
and
war
their sanguine fluids shed
they
can
relate

little flicker
they made too much of it
it was nothing
wait
until
they
see
the
flame
it
sparked

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

 

If Nature Erected Walls

if nature erected walls
to keep foreign plants off native soil
dug the foundation deeply
to make evil roots recoil
built the barriers high
and
higher
could she prevent alien seeds from crossing
in their clingy flight on winged things
would she try
or
would she,
the master artist,
paint the vivid colors of biodiversity
and be glad for her expanding pallet
then
I wonder
if nature erected walls
to protect her vulnerable places
would she build herself a chastity-belt fence
to halt earth-stripping exposure
from lusty, mechanical hands
and
stop
fracked-oil raping
that leave her lovely portraits
smothered in charcoal hues
rent
and
ruined
I wonder
if nature erected walls
what part would she ban

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

Posted in poetry & free verse. Bookmark the permalink.

A Lesson from a Lumenstone

 

My characters wrote poetry several years before I gave it a serious try. Several pieces of their “works” survived the adaptation that is now The Legends of the Lumenstones. Poetry has become a part of my weekly writing expression and an important part of how I learn and grow. In celebration of the softcover going live for sale at Amazon, I thought I would share a couple of the surviving pieces, both taken from Chapter 7, “The Gat’s Gathering”. The first four lines form a riddle provided by Mattoby the Gat. The rest are lyrics from a song. They are a few of the colorful threads that help form a rich, storytelling tapestry.

~

Long the night at Dorghorn’s height,
There was a tiny glimmer.
Fortune’s right and great delight,
Held in the hand, did shimmer.*

~

Did you see my Adrianne?
On the far end of a dream,
Searching for me in the light,
My footsteps vanished in the stream.

Did you see my Adrianne?
Did you hear her cry my name?
All is darkness now and weary.
‘ round my waist there is a chain.

Did you see my Adrianne?
Always wondering where I went.
Lost to shadows, sold to darkness,
This the tomb where I was sent.

Here in the night
of darkest gloom,
We work the mines
of Dobbin’s tomb

Here in the night
of darkest gloom,
We work the mines
of Dobbin’s tomb.

If you see my Adrianne,
Tell her please and not to cry,
I have found the way to exit,
For I must work until I die.

Here in the night
of darkest gloom,
We work the mines
of Dobbin’s tomb.*

~

(*Taken from Chapter 7, “The Gat’s Gathering”, The Legend of the Lumenstones: The Lightbearer)

words and photo © 2017 Tanya Cliff

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