Poetry and Prose for any season

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Swirling Green Storm

Sea foam splattered upon his panicked face
his boat sank and life was torn asunder.
He had run away, he was a disgrace;
the storm worsened with a crack of thunder.

Each new wave tore at his weakening hold
yet he recovered, now he longed to live.
Wanting to hold her as he had of old
to taste sweet love only Kara could give.

The words formed inside, then out swift they rushed
Jacob prayed for rescue and a new start.
Dear God, let live, let my life not be crushed
please save me, please enter this aching heart.

Suddenly, silence, the sea stopped raging
as he had prayed he would get a new chance.
He could picture them together aging
he felt blessed by their renewed romance.

A ship rescued him, new life he could see
with many new paths to embrace with hope.
All that was needed was his heartfelt plea;
God's answer given when he could not cope.

Robert J. Lindley

Poem 1
Inspired by-
(After: Blue and Green Music - Georgia O'Keeffe 1921)

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 200
Total # Lines: 24 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 161

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Painted Gaze

Sitting alone in soft and easy chair
rustic gaze in artistic, painted scene.
Yet, gentle beauty leaps from face and hair
colors speaking, so softly blue and green.

Were you happiest in your painted gaze
with gentle look of a young girl so free.
Wrapped by beauty in a colored haze
your future promise holding loving key.

Sitting there in your soft and easy chair
rustic look in brilliantly painted scene.
Graceful beauty leaping from face and hair
colors speaking softly in blue and green.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-08-2015

Painting number two
Poem number two.

Inspired by -
(Portrait of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 120
Total # Lines: 14 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 85

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Hidden Lake Resting Between Snowy Peaks

Cold lake in the clouds soothes his weary soul,
among towering, silent, mountain peaks.
Life's troubles have taken a heavy toll,
sadness rasping in his voice when he speaks.

He conjured better images of calm sound
on glistening snow-white sandy rock slopes.
Gentle waves, lapping over boulders round
when seen this close, no need for telescopes.

Icy chills stir fresh mountain lake airs
as he camped at his cherished hiding spot.
Here he could rest, abandoning his cares
forgetting reasons why she loves him not!

Magnificent reward for climbing here,
holding clear lake view beautifully deep,
in solitude he could abandon fear,
entering heaven's realm in restful sleep.

Robert J. Lindley
Inspired by-
Painting number four
Poem number four

Inspired by-
(Lake by Georgia Engelhard )
and Debbie Guzzi's 10 for 10 challenge.

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10
Total # Syllables: 160
Total # Lines: 21 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 108

Final draft:
Representing a safe haven, cherished refuge for his mind
to heal its emotional wounds. Mixing Nature's beauty and
man's imagination with painted scene and the artist's
canvas captured image.-Tyr

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Colorful Fantasy Flights

You brought color to life;
a soul seeking newer forms.
Into bright red sandy realms
holding rainbows in disguise,
you instead slept not
yet endured all—

with honor.

Blank canvas speaks to you
about its great thirst
and splashed colors galore.

Your firm belief in honor and
beauty satisfies.

Did you not find heart in
brush strokes?
Sending painted glee
and with art have you not flown deep
into life's mysteries?

Robert J. Lindley, 1-09-2016
Painting number five
Poem number five, Ekphrasis (Free verse)

Inspired by-
Autumn in France by Emily Carr 1911
and Debbie Guzzi's 10 for 10 challenge.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Her Longing Heart Seeks Love's Relief

Pretty young lady, my how you steal the show
how many admiring eyes look back at you?
Perhaps a secret admirer is gazing back you know
longing to be in your private booth too.
With that handy fan hiding your shy smiles
you're features are an enticing mystery.
Clever use of your female charms or wiles
denying him such an early discovery.

What of the high stage, you alone dare grace,
could your setting look more like a throne,
or your beauty reveal more of a loving face,
while desiring you, should he walk out alone?

Alas! Society restricts such daring bold acts.
Yet, a longing mind can always find some way,
to defeat the prudish rules society enacts
she's sure there's time to steal away to kiss and play!

Robert J. Lindley, 1- 10-2016

Inspired by-
Painting number six
Poem number six, Ekphrasis (Rhyme)

Inspired by-
(Theater, by Mary Cassatte 1879)
Debbie Guzzi's 10 for 10 challenge

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Beach Strolling Sisters Discussing Their Savior

This was his virtue, that with head and heart
He saw life sanely, from all mist apart,
And spoke with such assurance that he showed
Our way as straight as an old Roman road.

This was his beauty, that with bird and flower
He loved the strange revealings of each hour;
From wandering stars, from waywardness of earth,
Fountains of poesy quivered at his birth.

This was his grandeur, that in all he saw
Or dreamed, he bowed before eternal law,
Knowing his soul the vassal of that King
Whose realm is established by our laboring!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-10-2016

Painting number seven
Poem number seven

Inspired by - the painting
(Twilight Confidences by Cecilia Beaux 1888)
Debbie Guzzi's 10 for 10 challenge

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Mourn Not, Death Can Be A Gift Too

Mourn Not, Death Can Be A Gift
(Collaboration)

I die more wrapped in stone each day
storms batter my empty seas.
Shield broken, now red blood to pay
I dare to fight on my knees.

Death, holds its long, dark salute
where banners fallen burn.
In life, its the last savage brute
this kettle and stew I spurn.

What of skies so brightly flying by
summer's soft gentle replays.
I hold on, dare I not to ever cry
time is just painful delays.

Hope once told me it was my friend.
Now I see how, it brings closer my end.

Now that the cold arrested my warmth
My shield has repaired my tragic youth.
The kettle starts to swirl and swarm
Hiding this loneliness from the truth.

Above pale skies the storm retreats
banners wave flying above the sunset.
My stew of hatred has cried defeat
Although my dying stone, I won't forget.

Death, holds its long, vivid salute
I have learned down on my knee's.
For the pain of losing may pollute
but my misery has now broken free.

A friend once told me hold on to hope.
The end is distant...I let go of the rope.

Robert J. Lindley and Laura Loo,
1-11-2016

Note
Thank you my friend for such lovely verses!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Are You Still Cursing Sweet Red Sunsets

Are you still lurking, in sad corners of many minds
taunting them with your charms;
wrapping their lonely hearts into deep dark binds
while desperately laughing at deserted farms?

Are you still cursing sweet red sunsets
with salty voice and fast fleeing jabs;
shouting into blowing winds filled with jets
and still practicing with sharp dagger stabs?

Do you still chasing fantastic shadow dancers
across those wide and deadly dark fields,
summoning up friendly demon prancers
clashing in battle with swords and bloody shields?

Yes! Your evil life has been all misery and sad woes
worn shoes with no heels and cut out toes!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-13-2016

Note --Re-worked a very old sunset poem today.
With hindsight I asked different questions of that past ghost.
Answers were echoed back in laughs, sneers and wicked little snickers.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

There Was A Valley Meadow Resting There

There was a valley meadow resting there,
plant life flourishing in its golden views.
Painted on canvas brings awe inspired stare
marveling at multi-colored hues.

Dancing beneath a decorated sky,
were vivid colors bouncing back and forth.
Artist, image, soft colors blend to tie
with clouds breezing above from the cold North.

Captured beauty, splashed on by artist's paints,
breathlessness in its tantalizing scenes,
paradise complete yet where are the saints
praising it by any and every means?

Splashed canvas held scenes of grass and flowers.
We gasp at all those colored showers!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-11-2016

Painting number 10
Poem number 10, Ekphrasis, (sonnet)
Inspired by-
Thistle in a Field, by Fidelia Bridges 1875
and Debbie Guzzi's 10 for 10 challenge.

Note: Tenth and final poem written for Debbi Guzzi's ten/ten/ten challenge.
Has been a most rewarding venture and Debbie has been exceptional in editing, advising and generous tips, etc....
I thank my friend for all her time , generosity and kindness.

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

Bluest Blues While Looking Back

All my victories have been shallow stains
shadow lights bent by use of greater force.
Time that culprit, shows just decayed remains
of white bone set upon a stone-cut course!

Looming so large once were joys in pleasures
now enhanced by a vain mind's need to gloat.
Truth is life was ruled by twisted measures
me sailing this cold world in leaky boat!

Sad thoughts, my poor soul now has so many
each one holding dark, miserable keys.
Life's real sweet treasures I haven't any
except days fishing under shady trees!

Decades have culminated in this thought.
Fishing for nothing and nothing I caught.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2016

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 104

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

A Warrior's Blood In His Old Age

Warriors bled, most now are dead and gone
tales read of blood, guts and dried bone.
Those that found residing in sad old age
were few comforts for lost youth's bitter rage!

Tired of waiting for another call to arms
not satisfied by women's alluring charms.
Holding onto craziness of courageous times
of forays into dark lands and hot desert climes!

Waiting for last mark on a white tombstone
resting in quiet solitude, shadows all alone.
Warriors bled and gave away such brave hearts
You'll not find that on any military charts!

We that fought not should see deep sacrifices
thus consider the costs and bloody prices.
Such they see in vivid dreams of and battle cries
are memories honored with that heavy sigh!

Warriors bled, most now are dead and gone
tales read of blood, guts and dried bone.
Those that found residing in sad old age
were few comforts for lost youth's bitter rage!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-18-2016

Note- Dedicated to two of my deceased friends, now gone but not forgotten!
Both combat veterans, one in the Korean War, the other in the Vietnam War and to all their military brethren that have sacrificed so much in order that we may
live free...

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

I Rested Upon A Tall Mountain Top

I journeyed into a one-eyed pristine land,
nobody could see to destroy its beauty.
There lay rose inspiring colors on demand,
there was, keeping Nature intact as a duty.

I journeyed into that heavenly soft dream,
nobody there was in a wasteful hurry.
Goodness always rained down it did seem,
like snow falling in a gentle flurry.

I rested in that clear and mellow view,
lone traveler seeking no other new path.
Embracing beauty's hold that is so true,
and seeing eternity in its endless math.

I rested upon a tall mountain top,
from there I saw spreading beauty nonstop.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-24-2016

Note. My muse accused me of being lazy and told me to get up and write you clod.
I typed the first verse--then suddenly the rest flowed like a gentle clear stream..
I said thank you muse, she replied, "next time don't be so damn lazy."
"Next time I'll give the first verse and your next thirteen verses had better be great!"

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

First draft--good but does not meet syllable count required for a sonnet(couple verses slightly off. .Tyr

Where The Bluebird Sings

Often I travel where the bluebird sings
upon clear morns through long dewy grass.
Just to smell the deep woods and things
and maybe catch a few splashing bass.

Such days send my soul onto mystic shores
engulfing my mind in Nature and trees.
To feel new day's sun I journey outdoors
under blue sky and with the birds and bees.

When found, that sweet spot sings to me
a tune ripping with such gentle flows.
There aching heart and mind can truly see
where life's titanic stream restlessly goes.

Bluebird then sees my longing resolutions.
Sings inspiring those elusive solutions.

Robert J. Lindley , 1-29-2016
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------

Fixed but prefer the first draft myself. -Tyr


Where The Bluebird Sings

Often I travel where the bluebird sings
upon fantastic morns through dewy grass.
Longing to smell heavenly woods and things
and maybe catch several splashing bass.

Such days send my soul onto mystic shores
engulfing my mind in Nature and trees.
To feel new day's sun I journey outdoors
under blue sky with the birds and the bees.

When entered, scenic sweet spot sings to me
a tune ripping with moving gentle flows.
There aching heart and mind can truly see
where life's titanic stream restlessly goes.

Bluebird feels my darkest lamentations.
Sings elusive magical solutions.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-29-2016


Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 140
Total # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:
Total # Words: 96

Note:
Took a trip this morn to my woods. Entered to rest my soul.
Found a saving place and there peace came--my goal.

[LongTermGuy]

A Warrior's Blood In His Old Age

Warriors bled, most now are dead and gone
tales read of blood, guts and dried bone.
Those that found residing in sad old age
were few comforts for lost youth's bitter rage!

Tired of waiting for another call to arms
not satisfied by women's alluring charms.
Holding onto craziness of courageous times
of forays into dark lands and hot desert climes!

Waiting for last mark on a white tombstone
resting in quiet solitude, shadows all alone.
Warriors bled and gave away such brave hearts
You'll not find that on any military charts!

We that fought not should see deep sacrifices
thus consider the costs and bloody prices.
Such they see in vivid dreams of and battle cries
are memories honored with that heavy sigh!

Warriors bled, most now are dead and gone
tales read of blood, guts and dried bone.
Those that found residing in sad old age
were few comforts for lost youth's bitter rage!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-18-2016

Note- Dedicated to two of my deceased friends, now gone but not forgotten!
Both combat veterans, one in the Korean War, the other in the Vietnam War and to all their military brethren that have sacrificed so much in order that we may
live free...

"A Warrior's Blood In His Old Age"

Huh! Nice....!

[Tyr-Ziu Saxnot]

The Deliberate Coin Flip

Wrote a letter to a longtime friend now dead,
asking about other side, what he could tell.
Please my friend, send me a signal if this read
and also let me know to postmark, Heaven or Hell.

Seven years passed, I received not a single word
although I thought I had got several hints.
The was this strange late night squawking bird
that beat on my new car leaving bad dents.

Finally it came, a deep voice asking me this,
why on earth are you still waiting there?
I died, we all are taken right on to heavenly bliss
you should come, leave your worries and cares.

Confused, I asked why he had not replied before
answer came back, "your letter you never sent".
Now that innocent reply my heart it deeply tore,
truly I had not known where his soul had went.

I shot back, friend the postmark you did not tell
so in my usual deliberation I flipped to see.
If tails its heaven and if heads its depths of Hell
now fate is the culprit, certainly its not me.

Now I find its always heaven and you want me to now join
And just to think, I did deliberately use my two-headed coin!

R.J. Lindley
Aug. 9th, 1982

Note- A little humor tossed in, written 7 years after my buddy had died in 1975. He would have laughed and loved it. Guy told the best jokes I've ever heard, he knew hundreds and hundreds of them. Drunker we got, the funnier it all was. If only to be young once again and also see my departed friend.
From my private poetry journals.