/Boom Bap Reverie
Crates cracked open in dusk-lit basements/
Needles tracing dust on grooves of gold, Soul samples looped—forgotten statements resurrected from wax, stories retold/
Basslines thump like city heartbeats, Hi-hats flicker, snare drums snap, old school wisdom in concrete streets, Cyphers ignite in a boom bap trap/
Chopped horns echo in subway tunnels, Scratch of vinyl, a DJ’s prayer, Freestyle poets, words like funnels pouring truth in the midnight air/
Apollo Brown dreams in sepia tones, Soul-worn records, crate diggers’ pride, Underground kingdom, built on bones of legends who never died/
So, spin that hour of rare instrumental. Let nostalgia ride the groove in every sample/ Hip Hop's past is still on fire/, and hip hop’s spirit finds its truth/
Thought slips
Into a pale corridor
Walls made of nothing
Yet buzz with maybe
Light expertly folding
Bending around the quiet
Shaping a utopia
That is just not here
But it feels real…it feels close
I move towards it
Without footsteps
A soft apparition
Drifting in the hush
Daydreaming
I recall it clearly. It was at August’s end,
and I was at the end of sweet sixteen.
Something would transpire soon that would transcend
the beauty of my summering and a world of green.
A dark-eyed stranger casually stepped into the scene.
Summer’s heat still lingered in the air
when I noticed his snatched glimpses aimed at me.
Those glimpses soon turned into a stare
in three days’ time when alone with him I’d be,
gazing back into exquisitely expressive eyes of ebony.
Like autumn leaves changing to warmer hues,
I was changing too - falling . . . falling . . .
never knowing decades later, he would be my muse
even though I’d lost him – that young man so enthralling,
Here I am; even now, his sweet soul I’m recalling.
He was my Blue Aster, my Morning Glory;
my early, alluring autumn romance;
my best and my brightest love story -
that boy that had me in a trance from my first glance
when I knew without a doubt I had to take a chance.
For a wondrous while, in his eye I was a gleam.
But September ended. Oh, melancholy ache!
To know that I was living but a dream
and that to cold reality I would awake,
yet September’s reverie I’ll not forsake.
Rising scarlet sun shimmers for a long while,
hanging in the halcyon horizon of color pile.
I get from it the dulcet gift of a promising day,
try to walk another unknown mile all the way.
In seamless spread of the cerulean satin sky
thin cotton cloud clumps float cheerfully high.
Their flotilla format allures me to fly like a bird free.
Flair of celestial scene creates for me joyful reverie.
Calm the moon rose in the night,
its silver glow gliding gentle and serene
tracing a graceful arc across the sky.
Scattered stars speckle the tapestry
lest we launch our dreams their way.
AP: 1st place 2026
Cannons sing where dreams ignite,
flanks ablaze in shifting fury.
A tide of hunger drives them forward,
bellies growling, eyes shot with fire.
Empire surges in their veins.
Pervitin hums a dark rhapsody.
Dive bombers scream their discord,
night and day, tearing silence apart.
Blood is absent from their tongues
only steel, only ash remains.
They roll, ruthless, through broken shadows,
flattening all under their sharp wheels.
Fortifications crumble like wet paper,
the enemy whispers swallowed whole.
Nothing stands; all things fall.
Shock trips, outflanking chaos reigns.
Victory tastes of burnt iron,
a bitter kiss of almost-complete empire.
War dreams devour the sky with noise,
and dusk ascends in violent, silent reverence.
Star Reverie
Seeds of stardust gather into
A holy crucible , birthplace,
Creation’s crystals of clear dews.
Celestial reveries ring out
Their birth song lingers in deep space
When stellar joy sings with a shout.
A medley of neon rainbows
The Creator’s sparkling showcase
Garden galaxies, God’s hand sows.
Through astral winds of cosmic fire
No hand of sin touches their face
Pure blessing light from each transpires.
Every star born with unique traits,
The sparkling stars enshrine their place
Their starry magic, contemplate.
Each night they see the face of God,
Eternal signatures of grace,
Then send prayers of praise and laud.
We roamed where the night grew thin, a veil of gossamer air,
touched the moonlight as it brushed against our skin, something kind and rare~
childhood, the world a magical reverie.
We followed shadows down the lane, their edges soft with glow,
heard distant owls repeat the secrets only children know~
childhood, each moment held in secrecy.
We cupped the quiet in our hands, a fragile, glowing thread,
believed the moonlight understands the dreams we never said~
childhood, drifting silently.
Waking pigment from deep slumber,
Accidents by chance do happen:
Tableaus waiting to suddenly appear,
Eager brushstrokes like a wand revealing hues,
Random musing concept to concrete.
Cathartic childlike pleasure of creating,
Optimizing thoughts outside the box.
Leisure becomes a fun experience
Of captivating imaginings out of thin air,
Unleashing wild and latent dreams:
Reverie’s gateway to our world.
Morning imagery born of night’s celestial visions,
Artistic inclinations smooth the way.
Graceful graphics give voice to our dreams
Intensely improvising when words do not suffice,
Celebrating expression in all its lavish ways.
AP: 2nd place 2026
I found myself in a state of reverie
Some other world, some other place
I was away from all the tangled turmoil
I looked, I stared, through a peaceful cloud
Nothing could really reach me in this place,
Only the sounds of trickling water and breeze
All I could feel was slight touch on my skin
The air that moved from sky to sturdy ground
I was planted like a flower, ready to grow
Hoping I would be beautiful to bring smiles
The moment didn't last, but the memory did,
And this exquisite memory flourishes within
Heidi Sands
4/4/26
(C)opyright
Nostalgic memory
nerve nodules ache for blissed breathy musical beats
reverie
I hear music
for dances of slow life longing
cubic
Birdsong
in garden heats
prong
Nostalgic memory
for dances of slow life longing
prong
Under the soft moonlight, the world felt like twilight in a gentle glow.
Among leaves that whispered in the breeze, starlight danced, ethereal and calm.
From the horizon, a nest cradled the quiet magic of the night, full of wonder and serenity.
Sometimes, the little things a leaf, a ray of moonlight, a quiet nest remind us of the magic that surrounds us. Noticing them is noticing life.
Message to readers:
Take a moment to pause, breathe, and notice the simple beauty around you. Even in stillness, there is magic, peace, and wonder waiting to be found.
Oh hypnotize, yon fields of grace,
your supple stems in wind’s embrace
and fill your scent my breathing space,
in sunlit rows and shadows
mid fuzzy hum in meadows.
Ahh bloom, dear blossoms, lavender!
Intoxicate the atmosphere;
a dalliance with yesteryear.
Do sway with rhythm blowy
sweet fleurs petite and showy,
do sway and let selves undulate
with air in rhythm celebrate
along with songs of windchimes, faint.
Oh dance, yes dance young breezes!
Romance the plume that teases
and reaches for the gold in skies,
where sylphs of sunset fraternize
as earth and heavens fantasize
of flowy ballerinas.
For gods a panacea
and too, my muse, as fingers sweep
the silk of petals on spikes steep
to wake my dreams that were asleep.
For long they lay forgotten
their silver-gleam stems trodden.
Oh rise in rhythm, wind! Do rise,
and gift my voice a tryst with chimes,
recite with lilt soprano rhymes...
Make smooth my pulse to groove through veins
like lavender in tufted waves
...and wind, let whirl the rooster’s vane.
Upon a peculiar summer night,
When the moon’s freckled grin
Yet possessed a wrinkle,
I wandered forthwith, into the solitude
Brushing upon the forest’s edge.
Through strangled brush and crowing groves;
Upon twisted soil and mossen branches,
My aching feet beckoned inward,
Until nature’s course revealed to me
Your river – pierced upon reflection
Of the moon’s sparkled tears.
Her sorrowful eyes as I wept
Burnt my heart in narrow affliction;
Though fellow men had possessed her,
None had addressed her somber glow
Upon the writhing hemlocks.
Rather, they loved her from afar
In hollow stone castles
Hung above the whistling leaves,
Crowding the black horizon
In shadows tapering their shade.
O’ Reverie, said I upon her,
Has my love no home in this garden?
Lo!
Lo, behold my love!
Of my sparkling reflection,
Sing to me in silence my love!
Where the moonlit howls
Upon this stream form me,
Be there,
Be there my love.
The soft melancholia of frost calls
As eyes poignant carry much reverie,
. I track my sighs, my tears from dim light
When longing fondles my threadbare sky --
Mama, Dad, and siblings appear as light
This precious grace blazing on Christmas time ;
While remaining kin whispers
Of past bliss __ pecan pies baked to thrill,
Gifts hidden from Dad's red sack __
The hope of winter's tender embrace
endures remnants from angst's prowl ...
yet kindly released through candles lit
For each beloved one 'neath our old tree.
.
Somehow, new stars roam to unfold
the treasure of calm and joyful musings-
Strengthened by sweet glory of
their light filtering through...a Yule ever warm.
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