Quick and slow, pulsed to jibe and rudder
A late dancing, in the luminous waves
The boats angle to the cresting froth tops.
Sails arched, full burst into the brine
Air paces, vast to the horizon’s rim
The hazing glow, communion of sky to sea.
They bob and streak, the prow's steadfastness
Each sailor guides to the compass, knowing
The importance of destination.
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©
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 3, 2021
written August 2, 2021
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
Mind Scape
Images stir within the mind
Apparitions surreal
Subconscious amphitheatre
Abyssal concealed
Transcending revelations
Quantum evaluations
Subliminal relations
External implications
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
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 so pounding
It was making me sick,
Then I splashed through the water
My feet left the land,
The moment I realized
I was deep in quicksand,
I started to cry
For this moment I knew,
I was caught in this dream
Couldn’t wake up for you,
When hands started reaching
The dream in my head,
I finally woke up and
Found sand in my bed.
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
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 bent before
prevailing winds
fray the edges of
ice clothed pools
we, who bide here,
weep snow tears
while crossing
through our lives
like clouds
stacked and rolling higher
over Eden marsh in winter.
we the disinherited
our voices buried
wait, words frozen
glistening spittle on tongues
hard as diamonds
cut the ice glass clot freeing sounds
of crack-shatter speech
our peat soaked bodies
bend before adversity to become
wisps of paper wasp nests
to flutter anonymously gray
delicate yet barren
our stories mere guesses
in frigid places.
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 the sea's fog hazed brow.
Fine brave surfers catch waves where no man sees guard.
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
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 in it!
People were
Disconnected
From the flow of
Years gone by.
Nothing is reflected.
The tower of this land
Collapses,
Leaving nothing left in it’s place,
It’s gone now,
Time relapses.
This body is
Frayed and distorted,
But without a mind and consciousness,
It still moves on.
Time is reloaded.
The beating and breathing of this heart,
Is destroyed again, now
Evanescence.
A conscious mind is gone,
Anyway, anyhow.
The chains
Are gone,
No longer holding it,
The Dream will go
Until dawn.
Eyes misjudge
This fleeting dream,
But it still
Looks for the “Dreamscape”,
But with nothing to redeem.
I am Fantasy,
I am a dream.
But my Dreamscape
Cannot be destroyed,
I will shout and scream.
Notice
Me,
Now
See
doubled beauty art
upside down snow capped mountains
in clear blue waters
reds oranges yellows
all complete the massive scape
setting sun beguiles
Russell Sivey
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