The waves cascade upon the starry shore
and wash across the grains of sand they find
to share its motion, a timeless captor
to give freedom to my spirit confined
soon it will soar in realms of passing dreams
that glide on the visions trapped in my mind
wondrous worlds where nothing is as it seems
colored kaleidoscopes there to remind
of landscape pictures where I'm a refuge
memories that flee, some are bad some are good
to sit on this shore where my thoughts flow free
and feel life's rhythm as it's understood
to not be a hostage to years I bear
escape life's chains, I'll never again wear
Kaleidoscopes in my muscles and bones.
The lighting surrounding old pay phones.
Old candy wrappers by a vending machine.
Make this hospital feel serene.
I think space rocks make up the difference.
I sold them due to indifference.
Sold my stuff to the tv out there.
Make believe chairs scattered everywhere.
I have muscles and bones for a body for now.
Sold my brain like a slimy cash cow.
But my mind was falling out of its socket anyway.
So might as well get a payday.
They handed me a wish for that old bucket of worms in my head.
I wished for another taco bar instead.
We stood there and watched
Kaleidoscopes of colors
Shadows curling from the wall
Thunder booms windows shake
A still moment of tense silence
Written May 13, 2026
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Turn the kaleidoscope’s brass cylinder~
watch the glass teeth chew daylight
into stained-glass sermons.
A priest of shattered color
preaches through the prism’s throat:
every fracture is a door.
You tilt it again~
suddenly the universe
is a hallway of falling
jewels, a riot of saints
with no faces, only
their bright, dissolving robes.
Teenager’s first epiphany:
Learning that beauty
is just rearrangement~
that the eyes themselves
are hungry
kaleidoscopes.
this poem was written for an online poetry class assignment in response to the above image
We have tendrils.
And kaleidoscopes or something bad.
A nest or a gravestone clock.
We make mind-pasta.
Debris.
Gravel death and word paste.
The psychology of me gets wrapped up.
It’s because of the dome.
Meteorites caved it right in.
The psychology of me changes sometimes.
Like towels get changed to new towels to the old towels but clean.
The psychology of me speaks through that constant dampness.
Nothing gets into this cracked head of mine.
Except for garlic toast.
Crawled right in.
Low battery mode.
Made of triangles bobbing around.
Like things in unusual water droplets.
The worst of knowing that everything is moving in a shuttering way.
Not a pretty “whoosh.”
Just a whoosh at the base of my jaw getting slobbered on.
I lost my keys.
I think I’m entombed.
Cascades.
Low battery mode.
Made of triangles flat, and unshaped.
Like things in boring water puddles making a mess etc.
Made of lost keys in my head.
Tragic.
Things made of kaleidoscopes made of scraps.
Made of my jaw, shutting down.
Low battery mode.
Pencils of all things.
I never found them.
So the camera panned over to someone else.
Unusual stuff.
The only thing worse than getting lost in the dark,
is getting lost in the light you’ve mistaken for your own reflection.
A window says “see through.”
A mirror says “see you.”
And this life…
It’ll getcha if you start reflecting.
The serpent?
He works in a mirror factory.
A place where every thought bounces off another,
until the original feeling can’t find its way home.
If you aren’t careful,
you’ll spend a lifetime trapped in reflection—
not memory,
not meaning,
Echo.
Thoughts chasing themselves.
Images copying images.
Like shining a laser
in a mirror house.
You’ll call it thinking.
But it’s really just refracting.
Endless distortion,
in a mind that forgot how to look out.
The eyes, they are not mirrors.
You were made for vision,
not feedback.
For clarity,
not kaleidoscopes.
Look through.
Because asking a mirror for help is like handing your wounds to a photograph, and expecting it to bleed with you.
It’s like whispering secrets to a shadow.
An ember sparks. Two. Three
A whirlwind of flames surround me
Icy sagacity yields to the ravenous blaze
My heart falls
Betraying me
A flash. A face.
Slim, sharp, and angular. Perfectly imperfect
Twin kaleidoscopes ensnare my gaze
What color are they? Blue? Green? Both?
Silken strands of gilded bronze flow beneath my fingertips
Euphoria
Unspeakable bliss wars with disbelief
Black
Light shines behind my lids
I wake
the inhibitions fade
a slow, deliberate ritual
some beautiful
mostly terrifying
the glass, a chalice
cradles the forbidden
each drop, a fiery kiss
flowing when the world tilts
diving into the velvet nectar
foreknown implosion
indulgence ignites
amber tides cascade
over softened edges
an eager palate
laughter bubbles up
a joyous release
rhythmic intoxication
and the world spins
kaleidoscopes of color
unconsidered judgements
a hazy fog settles
self spite to commence
unrestrained truths
hidden beneath the surface
spew candidly in chaos
a marionette dancing
self strung schemer
with every clink
memories
brimming with stories untold,
fragmented like shattered glass
thousands of jagged shards
stained plentiful
disappointment
a lingering ache
bitter emptiness
the cruel hand of reality
Subdues and suffocates
disillusioned symphonies
of joy
shackles to sobriety
The Empty Space Between the Stars 10-24-24 Inspired by Aurora Borealis by Frederic Edwin Church
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Empty Space Between the Stars
Aurora dances in empty space
Breathing legacies of star dust -
Charging solar bubbles of atoms
Seek reunion
With blasted bits of spangled astral Edens.
Spirits of abandoned ancestors
Twirl
Spiraling hydrogen kaleidoscopes
Cloaked in legend,
Between celestial glories, storming matter plasmas
Seek reunion with voyagers.
Emptiness absolved from desolation
In scarlet phantoms electrified
In stampedes of crimson rose
Wearing neon cloaks
Chartreuse winks at Orion
Launched into the space between…
I see the luminosity of morning's twilight
emerging on the periphery of my panoramic view
where it gradually evolves
garbed in gray and red clouds
strewn across the horizon as embroidery
stitched into the sky
an evocative touching colored thread of serenity
uplifting a stunning new garment
as the day begins a new birth
of majestic majesty and marvel
leaving me in a solemn moment of grandeur
and breathless awe
draped in profound spiritual perfection
as it uncouples from the last drop of saturated darkness
that was the night
The simplicity of this beautiful scene
beckons the miracle of life's constant motion
of the painted kaleidoscopes that lay before me
drenched in the morning's colorful harmonious light
that washes over me like a sensual symphony
of visual stimulation and ecstasy
from its splendor and beauty
bringing a tender sense of peace
to an old soul
who walks the flowering gardens of life
wiping away a tear
for the gift of another morning's light
causing my heart to sing
O’ I sea! Kaleidoscopes pageantry beige dew of specks of sands
Sun shines powerful midst the high day mass;
Mine eyes sees is a smooth and rounded pieces of glass;
Sparkled weathered and polished by the waters, waves and sand;
Mine eyes spies as it sees from the watery sea;
Distinguished smooth, rounded shapes,
Frosted surface texture, and unique color variations debris;
O’ I sea! The color of sea glass deepens none phosphate;
Also known as beach glass;
By the action of waves and sand;
It is a popular collectible beautiful catch;
And can be found on beaches all over the world lands;
"Genuine sea glass” Common colors include by lots;
Of white, brown, green, and blue, while rarer colors like red, orange,
And yellow are highly sought after by collector’s connoisseurs;
Tumbled in the ocean for years broken glass tumbled broken rounded pretty to the amateur
7/17/24
Sea Glass Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
You overwhelm me
Warm like the sun
But also like gravity.
My last view of you
Kaleidoscopes.
A brilliant new galaxy.
Ascending within; to feel my happiness climB
Setting out solo; internal ecstasy can providE
Carving contentment by relearning to crawL
Enjoying this wonderful spiritual crescendO
Noticing on the way; all little things contaiN
Dualities in me but don't require explaininG
Intrinsic kaleidoscopes; always up the antI
Needless is it to enforce emotional refraiN
Grasp the view feeling truest in belonginG
free with purpose
by Michelle Morris
13/08/2021
the rain came down
cleared the road of debris
minds unmasked
secrets stripped clean
hidden compartments
labyrinths in time
chosen with emotion
no reason or rhyme
the sun came up
sparking raindrops and rainbows
minds filled with kaleidoscopes
of memories and paintings
free with purpose
focus and joy
loving the moments
spiritual heights employed
© Michelle Morris, 2021
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