The Last Night in July
(I think)
by Evelyn Aimarie
It is the last night in July
(I think)
And this pink Moscato tastes like you.
Memories dance to the sound of crickets chirping,
Their legs rubbing bottle brush bristles
against my brain,
Scratching an itch I didn’t know I had.
I think I will call it—
Childhood,
Memory?
Lightning bugs rave in succession,
Primordial neighbor to the procession.
Release.
The wine harmonizes—
Honeysuckle exposed, sunray-damp.
Heat lightning remembrance, relative air.
Even the starlight lingers,
Pressing the mother Sun’s legacy of heat
into the blanket of the night sky.
Pulsing,
Sweat-drop breeze,
Kissing my lips sloppily but with a softness.
Like fingertips across my face,
Frizzing my hair like the hands of lovers—
And I exhale my heartless day
Into the musical
Of the last night in a small town, Southern July—
(I think.)
Categories:
frizzing, memory, night,
Form: Free verse
Salacia
Where two mountains almost meet, there is a canyon
Of boulders and unfriendly nature, such as thorny bushes
And self-hating trees and among thistles, snakes roam
It was there in a deep cave the lady of clear water lives
She is Salacia, the goddess of spring water and rivers
Where salmons thrive, and trout wake at dawn
Myth has it the mountain woman had wide hips made
For childbearing and undiluted frizzing of lovemaking
Naturally, any young man wanted to conquer her love
To get to the god who had the key to the origin of water
To meet and drown in the bosom of spirituality was
An adventure only the bravest dared to risk their life
Torn to shreds by bushes, snapped by the branches of
Tree of hatred, and to avoid snakes and scorpions too
Much bloodied, they came down from the mountain
It is said a few met the Salacia, who avidly loved them
Sated, she threw them into the river ending at the ocean
For Poseidon, the king of Briny, to find her an answer
Categories:
frizzing, allah, arabic, books, chanukah,
Form: Free verse
- - - Fading - - -
The mighty oak once standing strong
Now lying still upon the giving ground.
It’s leaves in wind, they carried song.
Of which, of this, no longer found.
The facial hairs have turned to gray.
Hair frizzing up and turning white.
Joints commanded ‘move’ but stiffened stay.
Eyes and mind now search Eternal Night.
Common sense – a gift through learning.
Truth once held its weight in Gold.
Love by test through time - not through yearning.
Wisdom gone with the dead-grown-old.
The lie now truth - wrong is right.
Forgery now changes dark to day.
A belligerent mouth holds strength and might.
Suddenly, seems, we've lost our way.
Hard to sleep so close to death.
Must hold fast to the original Me.
Arguing Evils muddle with each wheezing breath.
Must wake as whole – as was born to be.
The brutality of Life continues on.
Nothing now is what it seems.
All the ‘knowing’ - - dying – gone.
Life fades to whispers – Chaos screams.
Shadow Seeker March 2023
Categories:
frizzing, time,
Form: Lyric
Acrostic SNOWBALLS
So wet yet frozen at the same time
No longer liquid circular objective sphere snow
Only present during winter seasons snow
When temperatures are at and below frizzing freezing
Baseball like white substance snow ice
A lways cold, always cold white snow
L ovely white sparkley ice and hard soft snow
L owered down from the winter heavens snow
1/27/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Categories:
frizzing, analogy, environment, image, snow,
Form: Acrostic
`The 112th congress quibbles, fickle, frizzing, drizzle of dubious dribble, while we wait, …on the sick, fickle, trickle of dribble ,from their quibbles of fizzling sizzle.
For and In Honor of Gwendolen Rix
And contest: Big Kid Tongue Twister Challenge
Categories:
frizzing, funny,
Form: Alliteration
I hang up the phone
Tears stream down my cheeks
I get into the car
Unemotional, unreal
The lights are just patches of color
I can't even think about the road
It starts a light even drizzle
The sky gradually growing darker
I pull into the rundown parking lot
Under the sweet smelling pine tree
I step out of my car
Lifeless, like a zombie
And onto the wet grass of the forgotten park
The rain at a steady fall now
Weighing down my frizzing hair
Under my old and fraying hat
Approaching the algae covered lake
I hear the croak of the frogs
And pitter patter of rain on the water
My shoes slosh with each step
The bottoms of my worn jeans are muddy
My earthy colored shirt glued onto my body
And I sit between the pine trees
On a soft bed of pine needles
Just beside the little pond
Rain coating me through and through
A blanket of fog falls about waste height
The mascara that was caked on my face
Is swept away by the gentle rain
And as I lay my head against the trunk of the tree
I forget about why I came here
And slip into a deep sleep...
To be continued...
Categories:
frizzing, rain, rain,
Form: Free verse