Long Intricate Poems
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We are at the junction of the Little River and the Ottawa River,
journeying into the Canadian wilderness by canoe, the
paddles stroke slowly into the water, paddles heavily incised
with vines and flowers, and I am dipping my hair into the deep blue.
Spirit, is a native man in a crisp white shirt, his head shaved
but for one braid with feathers, his blue leggings enthrall
me, intricate beaded moccasins are sublime, his leather
pouch and glass jewelry lovely, I think I love him.
Falcon, a beautiful man with raven hair falling down his back,
his feathers are fluttering in the wind, he has dangling earrings,
a red cape edged with gold threads, his beads are exquisite,
and he is telling me stories and smiling at me, I could love him.
And I am dipping my hair into the deep blue
in this dream _
____________________________
March 6, 2020
Poetry/Imagism/Dipping My Hair Into The Blue
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1233-568-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Submitted to Strand Choice C contest
sponsor, Brian Strand
Honorable Mention
In the realm of ink and parchment, I find solace,
Where words dance upon the page, my hearts palace.
With each stroke of my pen, I escape the mundane,
Creating verses to lift the burdens, to ease the pain.
In this realm of poetry, I seek refuge from reality,
A sanctuary where my thoughts can roam free.
For life's struggles weigh heavily upon my weary soul,
And through these verses, I find a way to console.
When the world seems too harsh, too cruel to bear,
I retreat to my realm of words, where I find my repair.
In the rhythm and rhyme, I discover my release,
A respite from the chaos, a moment of inner peace.
With each line I write, I unravel my own mind,
Unleashing emotions, thoughts I often leave behind.
Through metaphors and similes, I paint my own truth,
Expressing the depth of my own heart, the essence of my youth.
For poetry is my salvation, my saving grace.
A vessel to navigate through lifes intricate maze,
In the verses I write, I find strength to endure,
To face lifes challenges, to make my spirit and soul pure.
So I will continue to write, to pour my heart on the page,
To escape the real world, to find solace in this stage.
For in the realm of words and the world of poetry, I am truly free,
A poet, forever bound to the words that set me free.
Nocturnals rose from slumbered sleep
Younger mortals began to weep
The shards of day flew with a sweep
As grey shrouds of eventide seep
Stars gifted their light, surplus gleam
A glitz showcase for loves young dream
As day unravelled her twined ream
Night's needle poised to thread each seam
Seamless transition left no trace
Of intricate woven morn grace
The horizon kneeled to embrace
Sunset's rise in another place
Before the day turned into night
A brief warm union kissed in plight
I got up early, to go for a walk
Empty handed, just a bag in hand
With cool breeze caressing me
soon reached the Woods
View there was breathtaking
In front was a carpet of orange, red and yellow leaves
more were falling constantly
Took off my slippers, put them in the bag
Barefoot I walked on the leaves enjoying the feel
listening to the rustling sound
Chirping of bird's resounded the air
I looked around to spot a flying beauty
At that moment saw a butterfly
It was black with intricate designs in yellow
Some distance away was a snail walking slowly with shell in its back
Dew drops on leaves and flowers glittered like diamonds
Beak touching beak dove and sparrow were enjoying
Parrot and gold flinch perched atop a tree filled me with exhilaration
As I walked ahead, sound of flowing water made me stop
I stood under a tree and watched colorful leaves floating on water
Leaves fell on me like slow drizzle
Suddenly a frog popped out of water
only to jump back again
Up in sky, sun a perfect red ball smiled at me
It's reflection dancing on water - Oh! What a beauty!
Capturing it all in my mind, I walked back
There can be no artist as good as God
Nature is God
Thinking so, satiated and blissful, I walked back home
Even now every time I think of the walk, I am filled with joy.
Date: 10/22/2020
Won first prize in contest
MEDITATIVES
burning shame
reclusive
& ascetic
depicted
concentration
in a
muted
panoply
of humdrum
existence
continuously
& meticulously
shuffled
a lyrical
intensity
discovered
suspending time
in
memorable images
unveiled
modesty
passionate
in
poetic celebration
quiet
enigmatic
pure:
flirteing
with abstraction
an
emphasis upon
time-stopping
stillness
sensuouality
in
making
which confounds
distinctive
often recurring
in
elaborate
pieces
infinitely
arranged
in
intricate
configurations
imbued
contours
an
ensemble
of painted
cornucopia
quivering
yearning
clustered
subtly
caressed
seeking solace
in
the
surrounding void
in
cautious
togetherness
cloaked
casting
long shadows
transforming
the everyday
with
inanimate
transcendency
Maybe I’m not permanent,
A placeholder for your hearts forever,
Maybe I’m ms.right now and that’s nice and you’re waiting for your princess.
Golden dipped crowns and delicate hands and a beautiful smile…
But for now I’ll do.
I’ll play the role expected,
Make the light return to your eyes,
Rebuild the heart I’d never break.
Craft the most intricate binds,
Weaving heart strings that do not sever.
Building confidence for you to find your forever
I am like a rescue for the broken.
I break myself to fill gaps in others because it’s nice to feel loved, im good at healing other people,
Moth to my flame.
I’m good at being something that is good for others, never good for myself,
Taxing on my mental health.
I am afraid.
Afraid of the longing and the leaving and grieving that follows.
I fear the lonely, basking in it,
Peeling it from me like a blanket,
I know what it’s like to break so exquisitely.
I’d never wish that on anyone.
So maybe I’m not the one you choose,
Maybe I’m the one you lose but not the one that got away.
Maybe I’m today but not tomorrow’s goodnight kiss.
Or your early morning “I miss you already.”
If I am your temporary, if I’m just your for now and Not the one you marry,
then I-
I hope she loves you like I do.
Not for what you offer but who you are,
Falling in love with all of your scars.
The way your eyes light when you laugh,
And the furrow of your brow when your heart is heavy, when your mind isn’t kind.
When everything feels like an expense.
Maybe I’m not forever,
Maybe that’s okay.
Because I’ll love you like tomorrow’s goodbye never came.
Form:
Quote:"True nostalgia is an ephemeral composition of disjointed memories."--
Florence King
In the quiet folds of memory's embrace,
Where whispers of the past find their place,
There lies a fragment, ephemeral, yet profound,
A cherished relic in life's intricate mound.
Old aerogrammes, yellowed with age's flight,
Postage stamps, memories in paper light.
In their fleeting touch, a nostalgic sight,
Ephemeral relics, lost in time's might.
Or perhaps it's a ticket stub, worn and frayed,
From a concert where melodies forever played.
In the echo of music, I find solace sweet,
As notes of joy and sorrow gracefully meet.
There's a photograph, yellowed with age,
Capturing a moment, frozen on life's stage.
Smiles preserved in sepia, a snapshot in time,
A treasure trove of emotions, bittersweet and sublime.
These ephemeral fragments, fleeting and frail,
Are threads in the tapestry of life's tale.
Though transient they seem, they hold memories dear,
Anchoring us to moments, both far and near.
Threads trembling
the pulse of a dying star.
Silver veins stretched thin
the twin sparks of an oncoming car!
Fragile as a lie whispered at midnight
the air crackles stillness
a map of hunger, waiting…
Of beauty so precise it bleeds
eyes like black shadows
hollow reflection sparkles in the dark.
In rhythms & rage
make silence scream, step!
Into dances between
what is & is not a symphony
composed of fear and insanity.
Bodies twitch, shadows
ripple somewhere.
A soul quivers in fire
Its wings caught the darkest caress.
Of a perfect trap, a final embrace
the web glistens in morning's breath
dew-like tears that forgot their treason.
A crystal grave, beauty sleeps
in the jaws of all that feeds
something waits, unheard.
Painting the dark, designs unformed
creating order from the chaos!
Of things delicate monstrosities
intricate atrocities!
Understand that beauty lies
in the stillness of horror
in the perfection of prey.
Whispers of the night across the air
a silent orchestra conducting shadows
spinning gossamer glass shards.
Fragile, dangerous, beautiful a map of hunger
catches the sliver of moonlight.
Into a constellation, broken dreams
inhaling the mist of dying stars
exhaling the sigh of one's clipped wings.
Silence in screams, their eyes glinting
black diamonds glisteninG the thrill of the inevitable.
But there is beauty in horror
the violence of creation destruction so tender.
How the light flares within the darkness
a passing of a car
a tapestry is woven
in the pulse of a dying star.
In the twilight of my thoughts, I drift,
An inward journey, an endless quest,
Self-knowledge, an adventure, a hidden gift,
That carries me far, into the depths of my chest.
Through the corridors of my mind, I wander,
A stream of consciousness, a boundless sea,
Reflecting on shadows, both near and yonder,
In the labyrinth of self, where truths are free.
Comprehensive knowledge of the shadow, they say,
Can cast a veil, a profound darkness,
Personality problems arise, like a stormy bay,
Unimaginable struggles, silently found.
For this reason, the alchemists spoke,
Of nigredo, melancholia, a blacker than black,
A darkness so deep, it seems like a joke,
Yet within it, lies the path we lack.
In this shadowed realm, I find confusion,
Mental mazes, twisted and intricate,
Each step forward, a powerful illusion,
Of clarity gained, through the fires of yearning.
The shadow within me, a mirror so stark,
Reflects parts of me, unknown, unseen,
Into its depths, I embark,
On a journey through the unseen and in-between.
With each revelation, the darkness grows,
A blacker black, that swallows the light,
Yet in this void, understanding flows,
A beacon of truth, in the heart of night.
Self-knowledge, a profound adventure,
Carries me far, into the depths of my soul,
Through the shadows, where mysteries are found,
Toward a wholeness, a vision made whole.
In the flux of thoughts, I navigate,
The intricate dance of light and dark,
Embracing the shadow, my destined fate,
For within the black, lies the eternal spark.
And so, I wander, in this stream of being,
A mystical journey, deep and vast,
Through the shadow, I am seeing,
The true self, emerging at last.
For in the depths of the darkest night,
When shadows loom and fears ignite,
I find within, a hidden light,
Guiding me through the endless night.
With each step, the esoteric unfolds,
A tapestry of secrets, ancient and wise,
Revealing the mysteries the universe holds,
In the sacred dance of abysses and highs.
In silence, I hear the call,
Of ancient whispers, of cosmic lore,
An inward journey, where shadows fall,
To uncover the truth and much more.
Thus, I embrace the shadow's embrace,
A dance of darkness, a path of light,
For in this mystical, esoteric space,
I find my soul's deepest sight.
Mesh
Of my window screen
In spring
Licked from the inside by our inherited old lady
She is made of bird bones
White whiskers
Wearing her oversized fur coat in the new heat
Pulled from mothballs
Tongue of sandpaper
Scratches and tastes
I don’t know what
Bitter pollen?
Invisible scents of fellow felines
Hunting shrews from under the garden?
Or lion mares of dandelions?
Perhaps
She is merely savoring herself
In the intricate weave of parallel atoms
Who wants a mirror at this age?
Without ears or eyes in her private world
She finds an in between
Alive
On the inside
And from the outside
My ancient mom hisses
None of your business.