Scape Poems - Poems about Scape

In the world of poems, where words make a cozy blanket, I run away from real life, finding comfort in the ink's set. Poetry, like a magical wand, turns everyday things into dreams, Making verses that help me escape from life's stressful streams. As I play with words, I step into a different land, Following paths in my mind, where...

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A goat without blemish And creepers and verming Are inserted in its mouth Then all it's orifices are bound The ancients sewed them up And it driven to the wilderness To carry away the sins of the masses You took the fall Massiah Carrying that cross and driven To Golgotha carrying a heavy burden A redemption for those willing to partake Of the blood of the...

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a FOND WHITE PIGEON ON THIS WINTER SCAPE so fond white pigeon just where are you lighting on tis this winter scape 1/5/22 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©...

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Granite towers rising above the canyon, Orange-colored dreams millennia ago Carved above the lavender meadow below, Reflecting in the stream meandering for Miles like a snake slithering toward dusk With scorching sun high and scintillating Off limestone remains along the edges, Smaller and smaller until they disappear Into the singular vanishing point where The painting melds itself to ornate framing. FIRST PLACE WINNER Brian Strand's Contest August...

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The window is crowded Tapestry cover with fabric Silk and lace Chiffon graces nylon spaces Shutters outside Crown molding within Net tapestry Venetian blind Crowded coverings of the window scape Need a fresh open breeze Left and right hands open the window and tapestry 11/14/20 Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2020...

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Mind Scape Images stir within the mind Apparitions surreal Subconscious amphitheatre Abyssal concealed Transcending revelations Quantum evaluations Subliminal relations External implications...

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Spring buds like Popcorn bursting along The knee-high grass of glade green While winds over oceans blow free On the face of the empire sun...

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I lay in my bed Eyes wide awake, Hoping for sleep The time it would take, I find myself running And I tripped then I fell, Who was chasing me yelling? I was scared I couldn’t tell, I ran through the darkness It felt like a race, The tree branches scratching And tearing my face, I could hear all the footsteps Catching up to me quick, My heart was...

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time … drips as color, inked and puddled minutes like sable bristles, bound laying down the hours as fading bands of value what are the shades of a life - of a person? how do aim and purpose and fallibility influence what's placed on actuality's canvas? instance and interval are the palette but passion and purpose are the pigments desire, the...

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Trump and His Scape Goats Trump was watching his goats escape; Were beaten up and pretty bad shape; Hair drying, After dying; In White House caught wearing a cap. Jim Horn...

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landscape of shadow life Eden marsh is still when the hawk gives way to the owl silent feathers sweep low over shining bog to dust away the last vestiges of twilight songs of other times, once warmed and borne on sibilant breezes, lie deeply entombed in mud the silver scaled seek depths tangled by remnants of root and reed cat tail stalks dried to palest brown crisply...

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We stroll ocean sand beach as waves come toward us. Sea brakes, crashing on shore; wind's keen, birds seen now. Feet feel water rush by - it's cold, a nice plus! Great size cormorants sate their greed upon scow. Seascape shows pier through day's half light, kept somehow. Rails hold places where lines drop bait far downward. Boats ply slowly across...

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the train is moving we feel false sens- ations shades of green across the parallel tracks clogged lymphatic system abnormal new growth anarchy she is dancing on the fallen red petals naked feet the red butterfly with spotted blue belly singing she is touching my fluttering heart i am defibrillated the new rain trampling upon the fallen petals...

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The inerrancy of the bible enrages me, Boils my blood, riles me and angers, Makes the interpretation prerogative limp, Nullifies that interpretation bud passed onwards, From every author who’s not embarrassed. You read knowing the art of literature, Is in its reader’s agreed distance from the writer, Knowing your book’s rationally contrived, Aware of your right...

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Every day I return With a different sea scape. In the first one A bowl of well-ground Red sandal wood paste Had dissolved. When sometimes I bring the sea back Profoundly peaceful Like a child in slumber. It is too light At times I carry home One with echo of the infinite. I rushed back to the seaside To return the one I brought home Yesterday There was a tiny fish Caught...

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