Long Leathery Poems
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From beneath a long frozen earth
ancient human bones surface,
they rise far enough for an eye-socket
to be seeded.
A sapling grew from out of that skull.
In time the skull became a tree.
Like many tree’s its skeleton was on the outside
but the bone-tree’s bark was harder.
It grew gnarled and knotted, grimly striated
were it knurled as if a twisted growth
had tortured wood into blackened bone.
It’s leafage was scant, spiked, and leathery,
thorns were it canopy.
Some claimed it to be an old apple tree,
yet no fruit did it ever bear.
After hundreds of fruitless years
it fell, stuck down
by its own inflexibility,
its unbending bones broken forever.
From beneath a long frozen soil
where once a garden flourished
a serpent slid away
seeking more blind eyes.
Anchors Aweigh...
destination unknown
for this Earthling
stardate: February 26th, 2022
At sea since time immemorial
I relish being alone
upon oceanic expanse
yours truly doth bemoan
me gal Sal (one among
numerous female confidantes),
no matter, she easily
mistaken as a crone
magical powers keep
her manning far aloft drone
as surveillance hovers above me
(to intercept encrypted
communication maintained
courtesy bluetooth earphone)
the two of us sol survivors
I feel like a foreigner since
global thermonuclear war
bombed webbed wide world
into pulverized power
vaguely similar landscape
to age of Fred Flintstone
and Barney Rubble
recurring memories redolent
of yesteryear, whereby I groan
though simple living
such as me and the missus
did Potschke coaxing homegrown
organic fruits and vegetables,
though, I attest we did
get violently angry with each other
and unwittingly cross interzone
where brickbats exchanged,
especially after she discovered
an illicit extramarital affair
between myself and Joan
since kindergarten her I known.
Weather beaten cap'n,
and watertight bewitched craft
time tested since maiden voyage
(circumnavigating the globe
back in the day of my youth),
I ranked tough as a pitbull,
when severely pitted
against raw elements
of swiftly tailored,
harried stylish nature
against leathery faced
reptilian skin, hard drinking
(actually as corked
poetic convenience - vermouth
arbitrary bottle of choice
if for no other reason,
than to rhyme
with the above line),
and tobacco spitting, while
colorfully swearing as an uncouth
Furies (of Agamemnon)
fighting (tooth
and nail) Pirate,
where rickets, scurvy,
and thrice unconscious,
currently ample proof
could not forsooth
bring me to Davy Jones's locker,
cuz I never wanna
get relegated to an underwater
whale schooled booth,
this raconteur can nonchalantly,
glibly, and blithely attest,
with braggadocio, despite
no warm welcome will
ever greet mine tinnitus
pained ears, I can plainly
imagine acrimonious retort
upon me behest
his far more'n lifetime
bobbing (like a sponge)
square pants float
buoyed atop crest longing e'en for
(carping, caviling, hen pecking,
or shrewish) wife.
In yard inside my haven home structure
appeared brown bear
depressing during
the darkest coldest times of the year
color is absent fragrance non clear
Blow the blossoms flowers are
winter still pansies and viola
My heart soul warm by winters flower
Quite purple yellow
Galanthus snowdrop white
like butterfly atop green stalk top
Darling droopy headed flowers
in front borders
in rock garden
blooming snow on the ground
Winter spills, daffodils
Lenten roses multiple petal star
Soft pink cloud white Hellebores
My heart soul warm by winters flower
Fruits balls clusters of
Winterberry. deciduous holly
Yon, lily of the valley shrub
Bell like
Winter Aconite
Petite snow flower appear
Witch Hazel
Wispy yellow. orange flower
Pretty Primrose red, purple, yellow
My heart soul warm by winters flower
Cold Camellia reminiscent roses, flourishes
Glory of the Snow late winter bloomers purple white leaf
Mahonia leathery frond
Evergreen shrub
Ornamental Kale ruffled foliage
Gabbage like heads
Petit peeking through snow, Crocus
Cyclamen beneath deciduous trees
Darling Daphne fruity fragrance
Lovely sighted in late winter springs on the way
My heart soul warm by winters flower
12/16/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
A hollowed weight descends upon the floor,
The floorboards creak beneath a phantom hoof.
Though sight remains a cold and distant proof,
A skeletal presence paces by the door.
I feel the stir of leathery wings that soar
Within the mind, beneath this heavy roof;
It stands in silence, jagged and aloof,
A shadow-shape from ancient, darker lore.
A sudden echo of a breathless sigh
Disturbs the dust like wind on barren graves.
I reach to touch the void where ribs should be,
And find a pulse that doesn't seek to fly,
But lingers in the silence that it craves—
A secret kept for those who truly see.
Under her guidance, we stood at attention
Like a row of young soldiers, reciting the anthem
"Oh Say, Can You See?".. was a warbled contusion,
that could shatter your glasses, disturb other classes
out of tune, out of rhythm, but with avid enthusiasm
it could rattle the rafters of our little school
And with childish delusions, we thought we were cool!
As we stood in the room
she would move down the line
with a frown in the depth
of her leathery brow. She would bow
till her ear matched our voice
and her hand would be poised
with two fingers that cued,
keeping time with the tune.
She would grit all her teeth
bite the inside of cheeks
Such a serious task!
it was all that she asked
that we please.."DO YOUR BEST!"
When we mastered, at last
She would gasp, then exclaim
as we sang each refrain,
mixed with tears, she would clap
I remember it now...
Here I stand in this row
with my hand on my heart
as the first strain imparts
Yes, I know those old words...
they'll remain part of me
'til the day that I die
"O Say, Can You See?"...still familiar to me
But no..............I can't see....
with fresh tears in my eyes...
_________________________________________________
A seasonal malaise plasters
stray tendrils of wayward thought.
Another dreary gray day hovers.
Vacant is the sky, as empty as the
surface of an unwritten page.
On days such as these the mind strays
through the attic’s dusty remnants.
Times freezes mid tick.
Stale…and salt less..simpering day,
humming to the background noise of distant stars.
Age has brought with it a leathery sensation,
as crusty, picked over bundles of brashness
failing to ignite the fires of laggard thought.
Severing the ties, the starched cotton strings
of apron which held the crumbs of motherhood,
hopefully, causes a rising of, if not a phoenix...
perhaps, a cardinal of a different Spring.
Juices from a dry well, well, perhaps not dry?
Crisp, precise, if unpunctual, cookie fortunes
flutter upward, on curled strips of sugar coated white.
Who is to say, who is to be, the center
the jam in the depressed hollow of my life?
Let the mind soar for a settlement of glee.
Let it roar for the loss of flexibility and
trumpet a coming of age so rare…
for it is not madness which hovers
in the grey of dawn, or the wet bleak day,
but, the elegant solace of silver strands
their tendrils spreading unhindered
cuddled among the cue, not vacant at all.
Waiting…waiting to breathe.
Need to get back to my feet, find my way home
put down this heavy rifle, seek grace..
a familiar voice, a kind face,
hope for forgiveness,
these hands and lives they've undone.
Home, your birth mother's own,
where hearts unite and love ignites
among tall grass and damsel flies,
and panaramic hill just beyond.
Ternopil Pond fashioned by man's will
taken from marsh quicksand and Seret's flow
lies undefiled and still..
yet so many wounds to heal,
along Far beach and Lover's Isle of gold.
Shoulders slumped against the stair.
Scratched and worn, leathery unshaven maw.
Wisp of groan, in tired eye's misty glare,
while boots fill along with torn glove..
wanting only once more,
to be held in love.
Will loving eyes recognize the man she married..
and walk together again, that sandy beach?
her slender fingers just out of reach.,
tho' soldiered voice of pride no longer carries.
A wish remained, where no war dared go,
where hearts unite and love ignites
among tall grass and damsel flies..
and panaramic hill just beyond.
Once, this hollow
in a washed up fish head held
an eye. Now it's just a skull,
an escapee from a crab pot
where it hung as bait to attract
a wandering claw.
I cradle it in my hands,
its flesh picked back to bone.
I see through its ghostly eye
into a submarine world of weed
and waving fronds tipped
with leathery fruit, spiked urchins,
dancing sea worms
and teeth readied
to seize unwary life.
All seems horror, hidden menace
beneath sand or tucked away
in crevices. There, poison barbs,
razor teeth, gullets big enough
to swallow whole lay in wait
and dream beneath
moving shadows.
And then, cast down from above,
a barbed hook baited
with subterfuge, sharpened
to anchor hard in flesh
and be hauled up to drown
a victim in air.
Fish….forgive me for having
commandeered your eye,
but I have done so to honor
your short life
before I lay your head down
on the soft sand and let
the tide take you away,
forever.
In those far days, stars had stilts, shafts
that pierced every eye with a legendary knowledge.
There were celestial dragons
that roamed the daylight clouds,
actual myths glittered in the sunlight
as they shape-shifted through a gleaming creation.
Olympus could be found in every nest. Nirvana
explored in nightly rain puddles. Heaven was a word
for the ordinary and mundane.
Then a thing darker than the darkest of shadows,
cast its vast leathery wings over the minds
of these lesser gods and their magical beasts.
Conflicts arose in every land, fairies fled
to the timeless flowering fields of Arcadia.
Blood oaths were sworn and few there were
that would arbitrate for peace.
To this day, starlight walks elsewhere,
and we the ill-bred whelps of fear,
must travel with no thaumaturgic succor
or wit to discern
this wonderful macrocosm of us.
Autumn's sigh emotion thrown across the night.
Stars shiver in the laden cold with the moon's sight.
The court yard had the comfort and invisibility
As the elves, faeries, and minotaur physicality
As they dance in the inner labyrinth among
Countless others of their mythical young.
No mundane would give it a second look.
Yet, there is no such thing as a Golem in a nook.
Bella, beautiful with pale skin and blond hair,
Wide clear blue eyes and pointed ears love to share.
She liked the summer best for the world grew warm
And the dragons came. She wondered if the rain storm
Is what brought them. Her brother Carmel, joins in
The dance holding an olive branch while all the faeries spin.
Dragons menacing roar with crackling fire of thunder
Magical serpentine fierce in all their mystic wonder,
Fluoresce scales in brilliant metallic shine livery;
Benevolence manner, bold chivalry.
Leap into the air, with their outstretched leathery wings
Weaving between the clouds to catch the air above like kings.
Elves as stars in a distant realm, together
Under a blanket sky, whirling in shadows of purple heather.
12/25/2020
189 word count
Fantasy With Fictional Beings Poetry Contest
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