Body flaws twinkle
in mirrored iridescence.
A radiant macula
bestowed by angels
to chasten the achromatic
who sculpt and chisel
a painted coterie
of obscene perfection
for high born masquerades
vaunting pristine vision.
I am soul destroying black,
Life has painted me like that.
I no longer see the sun,
Nor starlight in its nightly run.
I live in achromatic gloom,
Caged by walls I cannot see.
No longer is there poetry,
Though I once new Calliope.
Fairest of all Muses,
Why hast thou forsaken me?
White Supercilium, black face mask,
White collar,
Dark buff head with Black central stripe,
Dark gray stout bill,
Gray eye-ring with white awake – eyeliner,
Buff crowned,
Glossy blue, dark green, Turquoise-Blue,
Shocking white wing-coverts,
Thin black trace, garish scarlet Underbelly,
Black blue-tipped tail,
Toned, endless, enviable strong pins
pink
Divine ensemble apt for
Wallpapers, earrings, motifs, art, stamps and study
They sit shy, inconspicuous, in
Leftover dense forest
Mad for being naive in
Sartorial world, they keep
Picking up worms under leaf-litter
On forest floor, autumn always
Secretive Monomorphics
Complain to Sun
Once at dawn, once at dusk,
risks
To migrate preferably at night
Opulent pair dances to mate
Nests to breed, care their chicks,
Teach their fledglings to hide and play
Along predators’ plenty,
Teach their fledglings along
Stressful achromatic life,
to fly away
cyan blues indigo into nighttime
darkness scorches the soul to the core
hellfire’s charcoal embers
dissipate lightness of being
achromatic void
engulfs a self-fulfilling promise
rose petals wither by the wayside
trudged and treaded upon
flame red converts to burnt sienna
a mere shadow dances in the heat
hunter green pastels fade in exhaustion
an emerald pendant strings
a chafed neck in a choking embrace
mustard gold’s alchemy
folds citric sunflowers
away from its rainbow
where a pot of tar
repeats the circular path
suave mauve corrodes
into rust and necessity’s must
clusters indecision
and meaningless desire
the prism yields prison
and yet all colours
would merge into white
when the pail becomes
half full once again
and chakras confide
to the canvass
and the portrait of truth
An exhibition of colors
Dancing and intertwining wildly;
Creating a beautiful chaos.
Each color a piece
Of a complicated, bewildering puzzle
That's constructed and manifests a soul.
But what happens when the music stops
And the dancing ends?
The once vibrant colors soon begin to fade.
The colors withdrawal
Depleted, they can no longer shine.
Only an achromatic gloom remains.
The soul is no longer.
The body is left confused.
What am I now?
with twittering,tweeting and chirps of chiffchaff
a sublime chime of hope resurrects inside
i,a wild rose,somewhere in the pastures grown
i grow,i alter every day,every hour and minute
Some days are filled with achromatic gloom
making ways for impending doom
To taste death one day,i live many days
each passing moment unite me with tale of yesterday
i am the present,who is past eating future perpetually
standing aloof from miseries and pleasures
that was not the rub-i haven't cared enough
I,a soul,who in the body,somewhere hidden
Don't believe that you are a skeptic
Channel microscopic
Enlarge beyond belief charging relic
Cuddling following through
Police system no longer in view
They cantata is not achromatic
The Opera has been silent
Your thoughts and mine defiant
There's no dance it's been canceled
Philosophical, what's true is false belief
Mystique
Follower
Defeated now a crawler
Laiden down sleep installer
Awake Humanity be a leader not a follower
5/30/21
Written by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Bay Area Nigh December
A tryst on a San Francisco trolley
that exhibits penchant amidst a glance,
for 'tis wintry time launch all, too jolly
save two turtledoves, culled cooed romance
left in steep devotion, neglects folly.
Atone solemn occasions ere chapel
doors left open, soul worshippers pass stained
glass multicolored figurines, dapple
its windows amidst Christmasy lights, trained
eyes in wonder, gulp an adam's apple.
Snowflakes patterned distinctly, blankets bare
grounds painstakingly, changing verdant green
to an achromatic dressed whitewash wear,
rotating perspective picturesque scene
consistent seasons shift that we now fare.
The Golden Gate bridge, waning its glit of
citrus rising, squirting into blind eyes
forced to shades, now visibly shone 'twas love
delicate trace of your countenance guise
as it chalks a blackboard wrote from above.
2020 November 14
*8th Place*
Quintain-Sicilian
~~Emile Pinet
For all time, my darling, I am willing to wait
In this dark, achromatic void of emptiness encompassing me
‘Round and ‘round, as a carp circling the bate
Still unsure whether this privilege will bring pain or glee
Thereby embarking on a grand pilgrimage of esprit
Let yourself straight in, for I’ve been waiting so tenaciously
Often contemplating your very existence ‘til it aches
Venturing— as a hummingbird —hurriedly yet graciously
Excavating each new blossom, quenching my heart, ‘til it breaks.
Day, and Night
by Michael R. Burch
The moon exposes pockmarked scars of craters;
her visage, veiled by willows, palely looms.
And we who rise each day to grind a living,
dream each scented night of such perfumes
as drew us to the window, to the moonlight,
when all the earth was steeped in cobalt blue?
an eerie vase of achromatic flowers
bled silver by pale starlight, losing hue.
The night begins her waltz to waiting sunrise?
adagio, the music she now hears;
and we who in the sunlight slave for succor,
dreaming, seek communion with the spheres.
And all around the night is in crescendo,
and everywhere the stars’ bright legions form,
and here we hear the sweet incriminations
of lovers we had once to keep us warm.
And also here we find, like bled carnations,
red lips that whitened, kisses drawn to lies,
that touched us once with fierce incantations
and taught us love was prettier than wise.
Keywords/Tags: day, night, love, rhyme, moon, moonlight, pockmarked, craters, window, vase, flower, flowers, fragrance, star, stars, starlight, music, spheres, communion, crescendo, lovers, kisses, lies, love, unwise
A naked bleakness dressed with sparkling stars,
Dance sweetly taffaria fairies wands,
Auburn burnish Terra foundation scars,
Strewn light rods frock poise for their eager bonds.
Savor sparked light, plated of painted blends,
Generous crops hatched for harvesters pluck,
Heap hued leaves for dives of little friends,
Grand to behold as worn eyes are awed struck.
As the sinking filters down to deaths floor,
Achromatic crystals shroud their being,
Neath browns fertile soil rebirth of its core,
Hibernates for pardoned Spring, their freeing.
Limelight a year; birth, life, dying and death,
Mirror fleeting truth and our fragile breath.
*taffaria; Fairies' wings are made of a special material called taffaria. This ultra-strong, silky and transparent material is clear at first glance but has all 7 colors of the rainbow in it. Red, purple, yellow, pink, blue, green, and orange.
2019 November 04
RhymeZone
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Howmanysyllables;
14 lines x 10 syllables - 140 syllables total
If it weren't for you
I'd still be scraping the shovels
On land hinged by drought
Digging for achromatic memories
Beneath phlegmatic coarse woody debris
At trackless fields of feelings
In tenacious grip of my fingers
I would be scraping gravels from dessicated plains
Each path winding to you through echor
Would have lost existence
Left untrodden for eons
In limerance of your enigmatic charm
Bolstering labyrinth of emotions
Would have looked down upon
Lacerations on my vulnerable heart
To unearth dormant seed of your presence
To lighten pebbles and dried mud
And moisten it with my tearful soul
09/03/2019
My candy heart bleeds with severity,
hemorrhaging despair and melancholy.
A new heartache for you to ignore,
what once was good will be no more.
My candy heart is achromatic,
devoid of color, systematic.
Black and grey is what I feel,
void of complexion nothing seems real.
My candy heart is numb and calloused,
paralyzed and unbalanced.
There is only anguish and pain,
the only emotions that remain.
My candy heart cannot be repaired
will not be saved can never be spared.
Demolished, some pieces lay absent,
shattered into a million fragments.
the mime in a box
keeps to himself in city’s
achromatic fog
11/24/2018
She jumped the cables of this earth and landed on their stratosphere
not much was interlocked inside that interstated space except a high
the coded silence telegraphed in tetrotonic voice was plugged in near
twas' all she heard... computer telepathic knots and sounds of nigh
She had been in an MRI machine and she was saturated in their vibercy
she was a conduit to their human questionaire and viaduct's enscry
pitching her a high pitch sound they pierced the quiet longtitude of chi
then rocked her world with their achromatic lense and telescopic pry
They asked for her binary code dumbfounded and in lack she kept to mute
for it was long ago and way back when the numbers of her match encode
imprinted on the fascmile of mind's extole. Adrift in the sky with no refute
she glided on and found that life is different when your not a metal node
She was sent back to earth with a mind erase and a pencil thin memory
and it was so that when they came to find her many years from then
the only thing that she recalled was the momentary freedom's history
twas' all she knew... that once upon a time she was coded in their glen.
The End.
October 20, 2018
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