nefarious nightshade
the forgotten bitterroot
rebel camphorweed
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 13–19, 2026)
from between eyebrows, straight up to the crown
each point along the grid is our third eye
depending on realms where we wish to drown
we may choose to witness lie after lie
to indulge in awhile before we die
each reality is another dream
know oh hermit, things are not what they seem
_______________
(PoetrySoup Format)
_______________
even the wind,
a delicate art, can feel my heart.
-------------------------------------------
a lingering l u l l a b y
whispers low,
and syllables
fall -
tracing
your name upon poetic lips.
and while your love is felt
across a myriad of miles,
i’m
( collecting echos )
because . . .
the wind knows,
my heart
is
missing you.
_____________________
~ when our moments are just out of reach ~
Monday November 24th, 2025- Poem of the Day
no sound
in a cascade of nerves
submerged
amid a myriad of silences
a serpentine fold
slices through the viscera
and a breath
of phosphor
burns
in the chest’s hollow
a crawling rhythm
of an aborted name
shapeless
a lunar longing
locks into the bones
among the remnants
of a collapsed nebula
I do not heal
I do not return
I am
flesh that refuses form
You had me
for a year, I believed it all was true.
Every moment, every action,
how could it not be?
Like a serpentine snake,
you slithered inside my mind, my body,
squeezing out all my trust,
all I believed in you.
You made me lower my guards.
I believed.
I wished I didn’t.
You showered me with love,
a cascade, a toxic waterfall,
drowning me in a myriad of lies,
your words with a cruel lilt,
twisting truth like a blade.
Like a lunar glow, you fooled me,
your eyes deceiving.
I fell, head over heels.
Now I’m stuck, haunted like a nebula
that never fades.
We read of clouds and flowers,
Trees and fields and hills of grass.
Alas, like pennies spent, our hours reading words
That other poets penned and sent;
Like freed birds flocking,
Knocking at our door. The poor,
Who seek to sneak a tiny peek
Of timeless, mindless, Truth.
The emotional nakedness of humanity.
The words of natural beauty are only made to be gifted.
We gift them, each to each, in a circular of vernacular
That does not come from without. It is the most real
Of what we steal from this world of dreams.
Seems as though each story, a rememberance of our own.
It is the button of pride they touch as much as anything
We might disown. For we see a part of ourselves forgotten
In each phrase or combination of words that touches us
Where we had forgotten to look, but now recall.
For we are all; We are all. We are ALL.
Mysteries abound
mesmerizing my
mind with enchantments
midst myriad muse of
mystical moments...
Miracles reign
melt fears as faith
magnifies God's
might with mercy*...
Memories
move hope while
magic glows...
Music
matches...
Mirth!
*Lamentations 3:22 It is of the LORD'S mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.
April 28, 2024
5th place, "No 1306" Poetry Writing Premiere Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 5/3/2024.
A myriad of words could be written today
Ten thousand more tomorrow and onwards
I will never cease the art of writing
Cannot bear the notion of holding my tongue about:
The liminal spaces who cannot speak
The ancient lands longing to be felt and seen
Our earth mother who cares so much for all
Our innate everlasting worth that can at times feel depleted or small
I channel endless words and my senses express
I welcome the all encompassing
I honor the ebbs and flows
The metaphorical deaths that transform and morph
I witness my consciousness ponder
And hope to surround others in auric fields of love and light
The silence slips away
The sanguine tides crusade
Upended sentences are untold
To touch the earth
and see a circuit of lies
shrouded by a nothing call
The hoofs of horses roam
to myriad kingdoms
putting your best foot forward
Poetry is more than mere pageantry
Poetry is all-encompassing
Words are visions we're compelled to weave
Poetry is cognition most definitely
We can scramble an anvil, into a crystal ball
Add a dram of mystical, mix with luminol
Slide down a rainbow on half a banana peel
may find a pot of gold, or laugh until we squeal
Join the wee leprechauns dancing a real
Poetry, sweeps us away through a myriad of doors.
To sail the serpent's sea, land on a rouge shore.
Seeking Truth tea, and Unicorn horn.
Poetry lives in a vast galaxy
Poetry is Limitless Reality.
Love has myriad hues,
joy and then empathy,
holding in tight embrace,
close friends and family;
those we greet face to face.
Love has myriad hues,
its nonjudgmental eye
radiates compassion
to one and all alike,
healing faces ashen.
Love has myriad hues
that transforms body-mind
into God's living light,
teleporting presence
to heavenly delight.
Love has myriad hues,
being light of our soul
and pure of heart know this,
that joy in permanence
bursts forth as bubbling bliss.
27-November-2022
*Inspired by a comment Vijay made on a poem of mine
Like drifting fog or hide and seek with the sun
Life is forever changing, day to day
Whether you are walking or choose to run
Spontaneous events occur in a way
No matter our choices, we must flow
Life is forever changing, day to day
So much we cannot control that we know
To cherish each moment, we are at peace
No matter our choices, we must flow
Difficult times find a way to decrease
In a myriad there is something new
To cherish each moment we are at peace
Wisdom is seen after storms, sky so blue
Good and bad changes will always be found
In a myriad there is something new
Tip-toe with gratitude without a sound
Like drifting fog or hide and seek with the sun
Life changes will always evolve around
Whether you are walking or choose to run
Heidi Sands
8/21/22
You have fashioned myriad souls
Every one lacking ~
Blessed are You
The so silent quiet depths out of which
all of my so secret passions do imbue
onto my landscape they transform into
colorful cosmos of kaleidoscopes and
ideas falling evenly through the chasm.
And as if that weren’t quite enough so
along come some taunting tantalizing
bends, sharply risking onward along
swiftly until, subtly cavorting crash
and commingle sultry scenes splash
spill swirl then linger so harmoniously.
And just in time too for as suddenly a
myriad oasis of images undulate careen
tumble turn untangling and unfolding
out of daydreams inspirations passions
flourish calmly curiously from prisms
in my mind meander so gently forth.
To finally unfold gloriously out of my
contemplation into realization to look
lovingly serenely at me from this page
creased and torn came my dreams from
the so silent quiet depths out of which
all of my so secret passions do imbue.
(click on my pic to purchase my book of poetry!)
Dusty rose and orange gold when daybreaks;
And burnished reds and mauve at setting sun.
The mountains in shades of beauty awakes;
And retires to the same when day is done.
The mountains are massed in riotous blooms,
While sometimes obscured by lemony clouds,
As heady scents drift all the afternoons,
And into nights, appearing in dark shrouds.
Now and then crowned by such lovely rainbows,
Before birds sing to the warm lilac nights,
So still in dreams of June's golden yellows,
With its humming life, and butterfly flights!
Daytime and nighttime bring endless beauty,
Through sunlit mountains hued so profusely.
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