Writings of a storm cold
The house gently
Creaks
From icy winds pressing against
Exteriors whilst slipping
Through
Small inconsistencies.
Sleet dances against window panes.
Piling glass against glass,
Particulates of infinite possibilities.
Fractals dancing down,
Tap dancing on rooftops.
I sit at kitchen table,
Bundled from the cold.
My only friend and partner, a
Dancing flame from candle
Casting shadows upon the walls.
Words scratching valleys and
Mountains across vast white expanse.
Scratching eloquence..
Moving still.
Plumes of billowy
exhale
surround my head
Like a haloed angel.
Tonalities of gray, from white to
A Dark and shadowy blackness.
Reaching out,
Ever growing,
Like the reach of sea creatures lost beneath vast depths.
Here I sit,
Staged against the cold.
A storm of ice,
From liquids fallen from skies with stories
Told.
I am their conductor.
Dance for me of wind,
Whisper in mine ear.
Settle still o house of moaning temperance
Against a northernly wind.
All the while my quill to
Parchment
Sliding out visions painted by verbiage.
Living in fear of trou-de-loup
Jittering teeth as terror unfurls
Fingers of mist become pea soup
Unfamiliar with alien world.
Muffled sound hear dog bark
I think Hound of Baskerville
Vision has fled but fear is stark
Paralyzed ridged standing still.
Wendigo watching I am sure
Dorian Gray has left his attic
Amityville Horror is there more?
Spectors stalking truly traumatic.
Staggered onward now am home
Shaking fingers grip house key
Horror unfolds am not alone
The Changeling awaits just for me.
Information: Pea soup fog is caused by air pollution that contains soot particulates and poisonous gas. There was a particularly nasty one in 1952 London
image by KellePics Pixabay
the first snow drop falls
frozen dust particles falls
down from the cold skies
~
descending crystalitz
frozen particulates streaming
falling down snowing
~
yet it's not winter
autumn's falling first fall
snow falling down now
10/24/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020
2020
One in the afternoon and
Night has fallen
Ashes rain down like snow
And our world is different
Wildfires sixty miles away
Fill the sky with dark smoke
And the streets of our town
Yearn for its people to feel safe
Yet there is no way to feel safe
A plague ravages the country
A president ravages the peace
We wear masks to engage
In any social discourse and
Fires destroy our mountainsides
Masks that we mocked in China
When their air was so polluted
That was the only way to breathe
Now anyone with any sense
Doesn’t venture out into the world
Without a mask to filter the air
Now we hope that wearing a mask
Will help us to make it through
Plague and wildfire smoke without
Destroying our lungs and other
Vital organs that are assaulted
Simply by being outdoors in
Rocky mountain atmosphere
Where clean air free of particulates
Were our birthright and the sun
Didn’t have to hide in early afternoon
In our hearts of hearts
Seldom does the mind thinks
Grandeur particulates healing for ourselves
Materialistic beliefs placed in spiritual sheets
Cover me, console me in my anguish and grief
Must I ask up in my chest for kindness?
Must I look with my mouth spurn out my eyes?
Visions of helpless not why must I hold on too
Those physical visual cues
Must I hold to have acceptable life and health?
Or shall I just rely on in God we trust;
I’m just a seed-bearing break of a plant,
Whist in this vast universe I’m just a bantam chink
tween rocks, stone and matter
Just a physical substance in general, as distinct
from mind and spirit calls
I’m liken a still life flower chink twixt the wall
2/29/20
For Flower in the Crannied Wall Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
Just an Apple to plucked from the tree!
Not one to let proceed wrongfully.
Create the character you want him to be.
Just an Apple deceitfully.
Just one Apple that is all he is.
Providing guidance via Psychiatry.
No one to let move forward in his wrongful deeds.
Just an Apple to deseed.
Providing guidance is his theme.
This what represents his capabilities.
An ambiguous body of faculties.
Not that of the greatest idiosyncrasy.
Just an Apple making mistakes it seems.
He sends his counselors to ACT his plots.
They reflect their images via my mirror or by sitting on my ottoman.
The black psychiatrist displays his face as a focus of yesterday.
Doctor Apple is white.
To him psychiatry can make wrong right.
In my family, he particulates as my son’s mental health facilitator.
Is there a cure from the voices?
Doctor Apple deeds are his choices.
A wrongful world cannot exist without a rightful way.
Just an Apple diablerie crafting mind-sets to seed.
Overshadowed by his degree in practice psychiatry.
Ubiquitous deseeding is paramount.
Doctor Apple a mountain is to climb once formed.
7/20/17
It all could be ambiguous
I would rather be chivalrous
Than frivolous
I work hard and meticulous
And do not care if others see it as ridiculous
I will keep my head up through any predicaments
Working hard with diligence
Among any particulates
Near and far from plants that are or are not indigenous
My abilities limitless
Building a reputation that is legitimate
Much wiser and more experienced instead of senseless
I'm not looking for anyone's acceptance
Or trying to live reckless
Like when I was an adolescent
Outcomes turning out tremendous
Or rather horrendous
There may or may not have been any resemblance
Above and below so called 'remnants'
I
the yellow cries of creation burn in the subjective sun
staring rays of perdition’s psalm acidic as sinful balm
sear the fear of tomorrow’s bones into fleshly operas
observing with scientific malice the malady of romance
…the ghosts dance on quantum strings
…stars fall into amnesia vast as innocence
II
the roaring morning voice lies in mourning
bled beyond the hum particulates wonder wide
wavering worlds of whispered war rendering
deeds and passions severed from the stream
…lost survivors bathe in black flowers
…applauding the deconstruction of love
III
crying carnivorous caves leak scenes
painted with weathered fingers dyeing
dreams of the hunt levitating raw eons
climbing piles of souls claiming realms
…reappearing yields banish wishes
…angels swish across bedrooms blushing
An extreme smog descends
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops
the landscape. You watch the
world crumbling around you.
The death was very beautiful
thing, a moment before dying.
Becoming activist had contributed
towards the end; like
targeting yourself to be hanged.
The particulates pollution of
depression had seeped, and
Milky Way was asking, are you breathing ?
The fish now swims outside
the body. Death has many colours to celebrate.
Satish Verma
Fiber Optics
Free verse
Humans are a conductor of light
Filled with fiber optics of color
Sunrise is nature’s optical lamp
Splitting particulates into desolation
To be a waterfall in the face of fire
Quenches the fires threatening rage
When water becomes the attacker on land
Then be the boat that rescues the drowning
If the cliff is breached become a mountain
As the mountain top bitterly freezes find
Your solace in the valley of summer blossoms
If the sand is pulled from the beaches be the jetty
Be a
A
Peace Maker
Carole Cookie Arnold
Eyelashes flutter
to grip the grime
from particulates
radical in flight
with the loose
trajectory of
pillaging
rogues.