The night stood,
veiled like a nun.
Wherever she looked,
She saw a hooded assassin,
staring at her with eyes like fireballs.
Leaving aside
the unfinished works,
she curled into bed, tired.
Thoughts once dead,
of that fearful night
like spirits, from another world
came
to haunt
her once again.
They threatened to lacerate her,
in the stillness of the night.
Gagged by those ferocious demons,
of fear,
she choked
for breath.
Chained and handcuffed,
she couldn’t move.
Should she drink to the lees,
the dregs
of the bitter potion
once again?
She couldn’t wink an eye.
Like serpents
u
n
c
o
i
l
i
n
g,
fears came.
If she slept, they would strike.
So, she kept staring,
into the awful
darkness, wide eyed!
In better days of better ways we chanced upon the mind
Of great and grand adventure, of great and grand design
To sail the open seas coursing near and far
Uncharted in the ways, unguided by the stars
At the mercy of the wind we vied the stormy seas
To mount the raging crests and weather in the lees
Onward ever onward past reasons reach we strove
To gather to our breasts the sum of wisdoms trove
Salem - madame - had them ... sweet
Blackbirds - quack burns - slackers ... treat
Even - live-in' - Stephen ... King
Neighbor - favor - savor ... -ring
Nil clue - few knew - male grew ... Maine
Hairy - bury - scary ... sane
Fanners - manners - than hers ... please
Liner - minor - sign her ... Lees
Turned 'round - looked down - and found ... name
Schuyler - mother - found her ... fame
Missy? - Sissy! - Where's she! ... Cal?
Long drive - survive - take -five ... well!
Today - birthday - No Way! ... Show's!
Outside - had cried - Lynx eyed ... probes
Madame - pardonne - must go ... Ciao
Mister! - Sister? - That's her? ... Wow!
No more will I make life freeze;
I will enjoy my life up to its lowest lees.
Life is short; it is precious;
Life can't stand with things malicious.
Why shouldn't I, why shouldn't I?
Soar with wings up in the sky?
Aye, I do love to dream;
Like the stars, I don't gleam,
But I will shine, shine, for sure;
The more will I shine, the more endure.
I'll shed no more tears,
Banish all my fears,
To become purified,
No more feel petrified.
No more will I let life freeze;
I'll enjoy life up to its lowest lees.
I may be wrong; I may be right;
No more indulge sheer sham fright.
There is just one life for living;
Don't waste it with flattering craving.
Love life more, love it even more;
Such love will balm your every sore.
The truth will surely come to light;
Each thing'll be revealed extra-bright.
What we try to hide,
May flow free like tide;
What we try to bring to light,
May be murky like the night.
The clock strikes four;
I’m never like before;
I’ve learnt to take life’s drink
Up to the lees from the brink;
Multiple layers of joy
Help me sail my humble hoy
In the midst of others;
I found life’s new colours;
The sun is about to wane;
Yes, he will come up again,
Again tomorrow,
Wiping each sorrow.
The “sunny spots of greenery”
Adorn the entire scenery,
Playing hide-and-seek;
Yet, how mild and meek!
Oh! How so mild?
Everything’s so wild
In this savage society,
Where there’s almost no gaiety.
“No sorrow! Have no sorrow!
I’ll come up again tomorrow.”
No sorrow but pure peace
In the lap of natural bliss.
So many sides we learn,
So many outlooks we earn
In life’s fathomless fountain;
Nothing obstructs as a mountain;
When we stay positive,
Without allowing vibes negative,
We can learn, we may earn
Wisdom; life never seems stern.
Once crashed the waves in tempest’s storm,
and blew the wind as sails were torn.
Once drove the rain against frozen skin
as darkness took the vessel in.
Once void of any hope at all,
trapped deep inside the prison’s wall,
beneath the crushing weight of lead
but faintest light shown from ahead.
Then in a moment, skies were clear
and ocean’s calm dispelled the fear.
It seemed blue skies meant all is well.
The storm has past now mend the sail.
So gave I way to those who care,
and bent the knee and found what’s there -
pure wine upon the lees in hand
and from it, strength to make a stand.
But drifting time brought slumber’s sleep
as wind reversed across the deep.
Blue sky gave way to churning black.
Nowhere to go, no turning back.
For little deeds allowed back in
like seeds of tares took root again
and oh, how fast the vines did grow.
And I had nowhere left to go.
Once back again in tempest’s hold.
Now worse the winds, now worse the cold.
The brief blue sky and radiant warm…
was only the eye of the storm.
up the steps into the oak he slithered
like a snake, but not gnarly, old or withered
it’s our friend Lee, I whispered to my sis.
he’s as slippery as a snake with a soft hiss.
you are beyond pathetic, my sis said to me.
there is nothing magical or mystical about that tree.
I did not see anyone enter or leave.
She is ruled by her head, I guess she did not see.
Being clairaudient and clairvoyant too,
I saw what I saw in those woods, and it was a hue
a ghostly apparition that walked into that oak tree.
I know it was my freshly deceased friend, Lee.
Tak oor grund from beneath oor hurdies
Burn oor birches aside the lough,
Besmirch hard fecht fur freedom,
Dictating oor days tae come,
No from the pint o a gun,
Fae laws an promises broken.
Lees an lees spout forth like watter
Lives expended as if they dinnae matter,
Feel the Jacobite spirit again,
Ready tae fecht like scotsmen again,
Like warrior poets risen from the glen,
Fae the mists o the past remember,
Oor freedom wis wun sending Edward hame,
Yon wis the past a new war begun noo,
No wi claymores ,targes an guns,
This time its ideals an Eton buffers,
Those who wid sell oor birthrights
Tae mak us slaves an servile peasants,
Using stealth ,treachery an unco ither weys
Rogues they be crooks ,cheats and thieves
Seeming beyond reproach wi things hidden
Frae us puir mortals aye they wull dae us doon,
Sic a time as this tae fecht fur whit is oors
Naw mair begging fur aa few scraps
Fae a table fu wi guid things ,
Scraps urny fur us we ur free loons
Burthit free an deeing we wull be free,
Ur ye ready tae rise yince agin?
Andrew P mcintyre 14/09/2020
“The broken pieces of our heart like shards of glass are difficult to be glued up. It needs great care and craftsmanship to mend it.” ~ By Poet
The night stood,
veiled like an assassin.
Leaving aside the unfinished works,
she curled into bed, tired.
Thoughts once dead,
like spirits, from another world
came to haunt.
They threatened to lacerate her,
in the stillness of the night.
Gagged by those ferocious demons
she choked for breath.
Chained and handcuffed,
she couldn't move.
Should she drink to the lees
the dregs of the bitter potion?
She couldn't wink an eye!
She heard someone asking
'Why should you keep alive
the past in an album
and turn its pages every now and then'?
But...she couldn't help......
Like serpents uncoiling,
memories came.
If she slept, they would strike.
So she kept staring
into the awful darkness broken and wide eyed!
A transgender person from Lees,
Undergoing the "change" by degrees,
Faced the final decision,
Ere the final incision,
Should she sit or stand up when she pees?
July 30, 2023
Entered in A Bawdy or Funny Limerick Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Tania Kitchen
4th Place
Blinded to my goal,
Out of tune in my pursuit,
I had meandered,
I had wandered.
I had an ingrained ability,
Building it for stability,
I was holding the wrong piece,
Dwelling on lees.
There was a depth,
I had not harnessed,
There was a cleft,
I had not launched into it.
I walk with new eyes,
Still breaking through dawn's ice,
Hunting for balance,
Permuting my thoughts for clearance.
The scales have fallen off,
I journey through the terrain,
Undulating and rough,
Anticipating heaven's rain.
January 3, 2023.
Much needs to be done,
The mind sees these,
Days are past gone,
The body is on the lees.
The mind’s door is opened,
There’s a stream of ideas,
What’s closed is reopened,
He wished he had the Midas.
July 3, 2022.
Briny tis vast bethrong
Balsam swept windsong
Droplets align brusque seas
Sailors beware perilous lees
Fickle fathoms she weeps
Discorded notion steeps
Coquet tempest squall
Bounden to celestial call
Sail me matey, harness rein
Envious tis sodden domain
Cast to enchanted sea
Foolhardy, thou may be
Hasten to landlubber true
By chance nary pines you
Submerged in foamy cascade
Seawaters tis possessive maid
Fiber optics make such gorgeous Christmas trees
Enhance silk flower arrangement in a variety of degrees
Used in medical operations if you please.
Help phone signals according to my cousin Lees.
I wish I could wear them up and down my sleeves.
Thirst! Thirst!
Scorching thirst!
What a terrible night!
From head to groin
From hip to tip,
Fire rages.
My entrails shriek and crackle,
As twigs in a forest fire.
My nostrils flare,
With the reeking smell of burnt flesh.
My tongue and gullet,
Melt like plastic on exposure to heat.
Like a hornbill,
I thirst for a drop of water.
Wow! Before me is poised a chalice,
Full to the brim
With scarlet, bubbling liquid
As elixir, suddenly lowered from Heaven!
Extending my hands to hold it
And drawing it close to lips
Oh! How I missed it by a whisker!
By what magic
By what vanishing trick
From my chalice of the night,
The wine drained out
Leaving not even the lees
What terrible betrayal!
Its dry emptiness
Stared at me
I felt myself gyrating in darkness
Was it a dream or an illusion?
Reality or fantasy?
21. Jan. 2022
The Chalice of Night Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Chantelle Ann Cooke
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