Try not to notice the stand-out babushka I was told.
I immediately whipped my face around, so big and bold.
She was really something with kerchief of green and gold.
I said not to look! Said my friend, whose face seemed old.
He is so smitten with his cat, it is almost ridiculous I know.
But he has no other relative, so he is in love with Bitsy Blow.
She wandered onto his back step one day in February snow.
I try my best to not see her, even though she has eyes that glow.
We are so truly
camouflaged to others
that we are not authentic
to ourselves anymore
With purpose her steps project pearlescent elegance
Finely cut fabric falls from her waist, embellishes
Weightless momentum, legs timed as ballroom
bustle musical march beside busy suburban thrum
Range Rover overgrown zebras meander, hands free
Inhabit hair salon adjacent spots, to emerge panthers
Claws comb plumb neat pelt on gym angular shoulders
Watched white teeth greet crimped cappuccino domes
From rotting fence, cluttered sunroom mottled streets
Feral hedges blend shed dilapidation with neighbours
Pearl recalls the rural run-down houses, howling low hope
Chimneys emitting messages to status never received
Mauve smoke drifts to city monotonous nonchalance
Eleventh level sky view squares share trove of eventide
Tang in coveted ticket operas from atop lavish lifestyle
High rise residents' glinted sun sets show mirrors only
20th March 2021
Written for Contest : Eight Word Bard
Sponsor : John Hamilton
Words of necessary inclusion are:
pearlescent, thrum, plumb, crimped,
feral, howling, eventide, tang
I am the master of bedevil, the salt upon the meat
I am the cognitive in the incognito who can convincingly repeat
Each mood, each move, each song to be replete
With authenticity, synchronicity, electricity and beat
I am the master of presentation with the prowess of display
I am the rendition in the music, the soul, the core to portray
Perfection that is flawless and chilling its tone and color takeaway
Each beam of the spotlight so my listeners are carried away
I am the acronym of pop performance, a legend here to stay
I am the “Devil of Beguiling Sway”!
January 17, 2021
Completely Your Choice Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand
hopping grasshopper
same color as blades of grass
camouflaged he walks
8/16/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
A Haiku
Nessie slept soundly cuddling
the tin-plate toy submarine
fitted with plastic wood head
on long sinuous neck attached to
the conning tower, that drifted down
to Nessie's hideout deep in the cave
at the bottom of Loch Ness.
Nessie knew the pressure was off.
The fake photographs had quelled
the endless searches and prying.
"We'll give them their monster"
the model maker declared.
He gave them an image - a fake.
People believed the photograph was real for such a long time,
that no one would ever
see or know what Nessie really looked like.
People would always look for a snake like head on a long neck
with one hump or two from the tail.
People wanted a monster,
wanted a photograph to confirm it.
Now Nessie had the model,
he could poke it up through the surface
on dark stormy nights when lightning
added to the mystery and intrigue.
The stranger-than-fiction inner truth, hidden by what people wanted to believe.
A Trojan horse enshrouding truth, within a fake cloak of myth revealed.
Camouflaged Beauty
Before ‘essence comes existence’ existential beauty in the
Eye of the beholder and in the making when fragments disperse
And grimy misunderstanding of what life is about to become is
United in shards of stained glass mosaic cleaned from smudge
Total eclipse of the mind in which philosophy confuses Yang
Yin with effortless unchallenged order un-troublesome trifle
In polar complements I trust and with shadow comes light
Nothing is ugly as silver lining may well turn to gold at the
Dawn a rainbow bowing in grace and distinguished disguise
Icicles trigger change warm reactive blood flow of heart mind
Soul spirit and essence once existence is lived agentic retold
Gripped by the thorns the horns that threaten to pierce
Unblocked restrictions lighten the load and point to the journey
Irritating no doubt but sufficient and necessary to turn black
Sludge of melancholic depression into what it holds beyond
Existential angst to savour and befriend it for what it contains
28th December 2016
Chance, choice and circumstances can create,
new opportunities in life, to change our fate.
Some challenges camouflage opportunities ahead,
give a thought, don't discarded them and shred.
Take different view of situations and think over,
could be golden opportunity, may not return ever.
Spot and seize opportunities, they are success keys,
don't let them wait, act fast, no time to sit at ease.
Sometimes hidden opportunities pretend like threats,
they come and they go, missed ones leave regrets.
Life itself is an opportunity, to strive for the best,
try to fulfill your dreams, with vigour and zest.
Nov 2, 2016.
Opportunities - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Wearing camouflage
in wall-flower tradition
no longer seeing another
who’ll take the time to peer within.
Perpetually in autumn’s dress,
near the deep sleep of winters cold,
though nothing close to bitterness
in her tresses could one behold.
With tranquility the foundation
of each new days new sun rising
True beauty flows unseen
winding gracefully between
past’s mountains.
As the parting lights of each sunset
blushes the cheeks of a day’s survival
the night begins in loving hope
of a dream that will bring revival
Casting camouflage
aside with dreams of him;
the only one who took the time
to see and peer within.
©Debra Squyres 2015
1/3/15
~*~
Alluring veil of ebony lace
slumbering silently, masking tired eyes
Confiscating vehemently
every tear she cries
Words whispered from a forked tongue
gasping for a breath of disgrace
Jealousy of ghost past
nothing left, but to hide her face
Lies rip into the pages of her book
promises broken, left in dismay
The hues of pretty photographs
fade subtly away
Camouflaged love, encase in your denial and envy
bitterness surging through every vein
Damaged now, defective
she'll never be beautiful again.
~*~
Every day you put on a mask
a different face for each task
the son, the brother, the father, and friend
each role you play...till the days end
No one can know, no one must see
the face hidden underneath, realness hidden by thee
it's been so long, even you don't know
what's behind your mask...what the mirror will show
If you take it off, you feel so weak
so scared, terrified to speak
look into your eyes, and see without the disguise
is this the man you're supposed to be
Remove the mask, it will set you free
help you heal, help you to see
that your mask hides nothing these days
now let me help remove your mask...let's put it away!!!
Camouflage of love
Hiding in plain sight of you
will you ever see?