Air traffic control has spotted a strange object in the sky
Moving at the speed of sound, bright lights flashing by
Radio contact has been made, a request to land on every roof in town
Air space has been cleared, and the landing textbook without a sound
A man in a red suit climbs out to check the flight crew of eight reindeer
A last chance to view the naughty and nice list before he disappears
The elves have reported all the chimneys are clear
Santa has been on a strict weight loss program, no need to fear
Presents are all separated and ready for delivery, must be handled with care
Timeline to get moving, such a big job no time to spare
Christmas comes but once a year, enjoy it spread goodwill and lots of cheer
Thank you Santa for another job well done, and we will see you again next year
How romantic, the fall, so far above the pleading waves.
The heights, the depth, to look the deep in eye and weep.
Air space between the lovers’ arc and shallow graves.
The tangible singsong of wedding bells and tragic leap.
Imagine it, the harp-like spray, the call of gulls, the fangs
that scared it up - the fade of white, of pearls and lace.
The cleft, the crags, the foaming ebb and flow, the overhangs,
the rage and misery one cursèd night, of love’s erase.
Romantic and tragic body of sea, a bride set free.
for she’d not live eternity of blood, thus spills her own.
He has no heart, but tears. Before his fate - a honeybee.
The heaviness of weight, the sea frothing with moans.
The scene has wings that fly and dive and sweetly catch
the widower’s debris. Invisible, the flight of ghostly light.
From precipice, how many tears do claw and scratch…
Hell laughs, but jealous witch wished bride to be first bite.
It is interesting how TV commercials,
are now more vacuous, more entertaining,
more unconvicting, more annoying than ever,
yet
he was often in-the-thrall of
their invasive noise
it was a background,
mid-ground,
and foreground,
unintelligible babble,
but
when he turned off the plasma visions
he realized
that they were a tonal band-aid
over his own mind-chatter;
now his self-talk had to turn up its volume
to compensate
for the dead-air space
that would rushes inward
to fill the sudden void.
He had to retreat into that place he was
before
he switched off the screen.
Most of the shows and news programs
were still pointless inane gaps
between the hard sell,
but
something like an elephants ear
spun around in his brain
picking up extra celestial signals
from this alien world
which strangely enough
comforted him.
On the frigid wings of the northern breeze
waned winter with frayed feathers flies away,
clears the mist from shining sky out of freeze,
song of birds brings life in ambiance grey.
On silken leaves’ cradle blooming buds glow,
with cascade of color petals unfold,
zephyr ripples fragrance in fervent flow,
but spring also has its downside untold.
Insects crawl out after hibernation,
stinging bees build hives in unwanted place,
allergens spread as season’s creation,
from defrosted ground dust fills warm air space.
Though compared to winter it is tender,
spring is not all encompassing splendor.
_______________
February 6, 2023
Syllable count : 10 per line (HMS)
Rhyme checked with RhymeZone.com
Contest : Spring Is Not All
Sponsored by : Michelle Faulkner
natures playground gleams against a setting of loveliness
cumulous sky clouds dip low, invading air space of sage bald eagle
buffalo, moose and elk bring silence to the mountains
silver cottonwood trees shrug their shoulders at this glorious canvas
humankind is unwelcome, so they can keep it ethereal
puma patters forth, silently intimidating the rest of the creatures
elements five, our forms lace
earth, water, fire, air, space
to aliveness integral
gateway to Gods miracles
think not hermit, simply feel
soundless bliss thunder appeal
elements five, our forms lace
07-July-2021
Elemental poetry contest
Sponsor: Charles Messina
Notes: This form consists of 7-lines, 7-syllables each line. The rhyme pattern is AABBCCA. Also, the first and last lines must be the same. An "Elemental" must pertain to the three elements- (earth, water, sky).
Lakeside, among the dripping weeds,
Yellow Jackets, Dragonflies, gnats,
and Yellow Tailed fritillaries
vie for air space.
The water is still, a mirror
turned over to watch
what flies beneath it.
It has a surface tension
that echo’s from an in-between place,
close but unreachable.
It is there that I see the animals.
They are neither in the water or out of it.
They are peering into both worlds,
observing with wide eyes,
owls, bears, and bob cats,
all observing
my reflected face in the water.
They are totem animals,
not mine, perhaps they are
unclaimed spirit creatures,
ones ignored by their humans.
or perhaps what I am seeing
is only my face distorted by sunlight
and the skimming clouds
If so, why does my own totem eagle
screech a welcome
that scatters the Yellow Jackets,
Dragonflies, gnats, and butterflies?
raindrops fierce and rough;
confidant over and done with;
so grazed sheathe air space;
4/14/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
I almost see the totem animals.
an almost place, placed before my eyes,
this morn-flushed day.
The red sky that charged the horizon
is shading to flamingo pink.
The storm must have lost its wings.
The light is tattered, but it plumes now
with the floss of broken clouds.
Lakeside, among the dripping weeds,
Yellow Jackets, Dragonflies,
and Yellow Tailed fritillaries
vie for air space.
The water is still, a mirror
turned over to watch
what reflections fly beneath it.
It is there that I see the animals.
They are neither in the water or out of it.
They skim, peering into both,
they observe with wide eyes,
owls, bears, racoons, and Bob Cats,
all observing.
They are the aliens now, and we the
spirits of water and air.
The totem animals, sniff, and eye us
as parents or guardians would.
Familial ties keep them close,
as they feel-out each life-path,
then following, but at a distance
always at a distance, for they possess
this hinterland amidst the glaze
of our daydreams.
A surface tension that echoes
the nearness of water and sky,
yet from an in-between place,
close, yet so far away.
all flights
grounded
but how
did they
STOP the
Canadian
geese from
coming to
our
yard
It's fine. I don't care anymore. You can leave. You can stay. You can talk, I won't listen. You can cry, I can cry; but the tears that fall aren't for the same reason.
Black, white, pink, blue... it's all just talk; it's all just empty words filling up air space.
Your breath is foul anyway, poisoned by your lies, festered in bile. It doesn't matter. Preach, yell, rant, or offer creepy platitudes and cliches. I'm going on without you.
You are a stain in my memory. You are... There's no point in finishing this simply because I don't care. No need to call it off or stop our roll. We are just over. I don't care anymore.
You stare at me hoping for a breakthrough revelation and the power to fist slam with determination and resolve. No. Won't happen. You are just not worth it. Just like that I realized it. You are... well you are you.
Those were the last words I watched my reflection say back to me as I pulled the trigger. Now I lay with bits of my skull in blood on your floor.
Now there's no me only you.
The five elements
Earth, water, fire, air, space
For us, God's not need
-December 10, 2018 Chattogram
My Five Senses
For someone with synaesthesia,
I am just quite dumbfounded,
In understanding all my five senses,
That leaves me buzzing, ungrounded!
You see, it’s not very clear,
As to why this does happen,
But I see, hear, smell, taste and touch things,
As if they’re quite apparent.
I see things in color,
Like words, numbers, and notes.
Which often leaves me in a blunder,
To quote or unquote!
I taste more than just food,
Like air, space and mood,
And often compare it,
To a summer in June.
I hear most things out loud,
Like smell touch and crowds,
For where there is one, the others are around.
And often they all blend together somehow.
So, what’s simply the norm for her, them, and you,
Are just all my five senses, demanding a cue.
And if ever you meet me or another as similar,
Don’t bother to question, because for us it's quite familiar.
Date of poem 25 July 2018
BUBBLES IN THE AIR
what is the trouble
water mix chemically
create circular
bubbles in the air
the right air, space and liquid
create circular
bubbles in the air
water mix chemically
bubbles in the air
6/23/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
The dog got a crack from the cat, in the face
When he ambled into the cat's air space
The cat gave the dog, the stare of "I am boss"
But to why he got a crack, the dog was at a loss.
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