Espy Poems

Misuses of Charismatic Privilege: The Violent Pressure of Personality

after Privilege of Being by Robert Haas

A tipping point of too many
are talking harshly. Down below, 
demon-dead in the unstirred inferno 
and perdition of animal thirsting
are coiling one another's tails in response.
They are honeyed vermillion and covered
in trim the texture of hot picamar.

They espy up all the time 
at the graceless rapture—
     it must sound to them like cold butter
dancing across a cast iron skillet.

Then one voice—she is about to shout—
takes the man's rigid hand and says,
listen to me, and he does.

Or is it the man caressing loose
the gravelly noose of anger? 

Anyway, they do, 
they listen to each other:
two minds with matured mediums, 
hungry to be heard, to be fed by the frisson
of recognition, their skin sizzling with it—
brutal words turned into kindness 
by well-intended touches,

and the gossiping, nosy dead are derelict 
and growing deaf. They hate it. 
They scream a chivvy about injustice 
that breaks no skin, but frays the veil 
between 
what's bone and broth—
a warning, a dirge, a hiss of envy 
worse than silence.

Lavinia 2

Lavinia will watch the tall grass grow
Instinctively she gently mocks the rain and wind
yet admire the moorhens
as the sunlight hoovers amongst the rivers side
She will circumference the moon
and ask you no questions why
reclusive to herself
she espy no tomorrows on the wherewithal

VANTASTICAL VERSE

VANTASTICAL VERSE

hum
           ty
dum
           ty
pudding
             &pie
o me
         o my
a poem
             in
                  my eye
to
   try
       & try

o why
         o why

did I
           espy

this rime
            vanta -
                         sy

Pie- in- the- sky,my eye

What do I see here? Is it something to fear?
It looks like a pie in the sky which I espy
Or is it a UFO which would be a blow
Out of the blue from a planet new
Could an alien be episcopalian
And in a state of grace though straight from space ?
Would my abduction lead to intelligent instruction
No ,it's just a black cloud amongst a white crowd
Is that line racist or more likely spacist?
Should I that line use?It is up to you to choose

Bunnies

 Whether white or classic-chocolate bunny,
Enjoy Spring’s hop-a-long of polyzygotic mirth.
Two floppy and expressive ears, so funny.
Toddlers cheer, and tenderly espy, life’s rebirth.

Grownups, too, giggle at the shattered hush,
The repopulation of carrot and lettuce noshing,
The shivering and shaking softness of plush,
A wriggling nose after a long Winter’s washing.

Compact Click

Wink at me and melt my heart 
Like only you can do
Add your smile to it
And I'll belong to you

Indirectly I espy,
Your presence what I seek
And when I see you walking in
I'm rendered without speech

However that is not the case
With what goes on inside
No indication on my face
Excitement's what I hide

A momentary passing glance
The locking of our eyes
Will give my spirit cause to dance
Desire to arise

The little things are what I love
The bookmarks that you give 
I'll treasure always, all my life
As long as I shall live

An Angel Made Of Lace

two wings and a spirit of grace 
aerial ventures, I better brace  
portals venues open space   
time slows down we embrace  
suddenly ascending a staircase 
I espy an Angel, made of lace.

Songs of Nature COS No 10: ABBA

Melts to a smooth touch that norms Autumn's eve,
eyes calm swans ballet, glissades silhouette,
faint lights pair, a porcelain minuet.
A curio stand, well placed, best achieve.
Nice culled singles tryst, pond sides by vast knoll,
balters few burbled matches. Grasped sunset
prompts a quietude, occasions beset
whilst espy eyes pry, as through a peephole.
Selenophiles resplendent moored grandeur
supine visages, prompt smeared tattooed rouge
amongst enthused pristine hearts, fused refuge
sonder renaissance ere night's prism, savior
flame, epoch pairs euphoric dulcet swoon
per drawn orphic sight, a ringed rainbow moon.

Awakening Nature's Rapture

Noontide cordial sun immerse golden spheres
Birch and aspen leaves rhythmically quake
Susurrate deep in quietness appears
Timidly on soft earth shadow path wake

There, where nesting birds await safely perch,
While conceal sweet are their audible waft.
Cool breeze twine spider's web and bees who search
Stunning modest simple-ness echoes soft.

Lone senior British oak outstretch thick arm
Grasp weathered fraying pendulous tire swing;
Mid saffron blaze whilst it mingles off charm
Espy hushed cries for mortal yielding wings.

Lush meadow pigments an emerald green
Self quenching natures pulsing rapture scene.


11/19/2023

The Lady With the Smile In Her Eyes

We see each other as the day passes by
Down aisles apart as ones laughter throws
Customers chattering colleagues nattering
Melding the days business in hourly grow

Then its the next day, like the day before
The same attributes, others I'm sure espy
For every other day, we know what's in store 
She's the Lady with the Smile in her Eyes

Giant Things

We are the withdrawal
on  a dappled day
White Vultures Swarm
bone dry is the day,
Now our lives are hasten
We are cheek by Jowl
Giant lies interlude
Secret tunes of cabbages and Kings 
burgled routes to strawn away
In the last peek of love
A giant hope glistens to espy

Foxglove Faeries

Foxglove faeries flitting freely,
tiny little ethereal sweeties;
picking blossoms to make hats,
faerie boys make themselves spats.

Mice, moths and butterflies,
are there strictly to apprise, 
they're tiny judges of latest styles,
those faerie designs are really wild!

Among the flowers faeries flutter,
flying smoothly as hot butter;
wispy wings transparent be,
lovelier than the dogwood trees.

Fading blossoms made into clothes,
are fitting for the likes of those;
elementals craft some lovely things,
 of colors fit for queens and kings.

If these faeries you ever espy,
say nothing and just pass on by;
disturb them not amid their duties,
just be pleased you glimpsed these cuties.

How Lucky Am I

How 
lucky 
am I
So close
to the sky
Nearer the 
Moon 
than the  
Earth 
am I
I watch
from my 
balcony
way up high
Espy
planets
and stars
in a clear 
night sky
Saturn’s rings
so magical
Really 
seem so 
close to me
Jupiter’s moons
so many has she
But my 
favourite
by far 
is a 
sparkling
star
glistening like a 
million
precious 
diamonds
She lights up
the sky
like no other
I espy
How lucky 
am I
Venus
shines 
upon me
Exquisitely 
I see her 
from my 
balcony 

Written 4th June 2023

A Brian Strand Premiere No 1221 Poetry
Sponsor  Brian Strand

The Moon By Day

Some fireflies lit the way of wishful whim,
the expectations fired diminished vim.
The lack of lucence rendered chances grim.
Design of great foment—I hugely now repent.
The flowers vie with scent—their vibrant colours spent
when light from Sun in lower meadow mean.
The crows at dawn abated soon to preen.
A gibbous Moon in western sky still seen.
Yet rainbows will succeed—the face of Moon must bleed;
the rays absorbed thus freed—its cast expressions knead.
I guess my chance to win your heart is slim.
Tenacious Moon by day espy torment:	
From arduous labour I tire and wean
myself by increments in chocking plead!

Hum Breath Yawn

Fields of spun gold silk somber auburn shades
Resonant a hum breath yawn against blades.
Wiff of cool air espy hush cries cascades
Dry in silence nature's quaint everglades.

Weft of rain lingers round as slow rhythm fades.
Mystique wakeful light of dawn serenades
While the warm sun rises, the bullfrog wades,
Small blue heron stand watch like waiting maids.

3/29/2023

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