Barking Madly at the Shore
The early morning wakes to find
the sun struggling above the horizon,
offering what warmth it can,
to a shivering sweep of sky
that is blue with cold.
Below, the sea whispers secrets,
playfully licking at the shoreline
while litter starts to sprint the beach
and jigsaw pieces of cloud
slowly smudge-grey the sky.
Before long, the sea has gained
a mischievous glint in its watery eye
and is barking madly at the shore
as it sends waves to froth and foam
around a finger of lighthouse.
As the day ages, the sea rhythms on
while distant ships slip and slide by
and the occasional winged seagull,
like a torn piece of white paper,
is ripped from the scene.
Eventually as a distant hand
throws darkness all around,
the lighthouse can be seen
silvering the moonless sea;
a detective on its latest case.
Ian Souter
The air hold’s it’s breath
waiting for you to decide.
Change conspirators,
define that reputation
or let each second slide by.
When she charts the stars
I fall from the heavens
And slide by her eyes
Of deep glowing moons.
I hold the orbs of her planets
High and firm
With the force of a galaxy.
I glide down the valley
To where the river flows
Inside her swan white thighs
Through the branches of thistle
Swaying to and fro in the lockstep
Of love.
I tell her in the evening
That we have the world at our fingertips
Spinning perfectly on an axis
Of great beginnings.
She smiles and looks back at the stars
And I climb back up again.
A simple roof to shield from wind and rain,
A tranquil house devoid of stress and strain
Where the flashes of faith and love do shine,
Renders a home the shrine of the divine.
No need for ocean of wealth, grand and vast,
But a peaceful spirit fostered to last,
Harvesting joy, strolling beneath the sky,
Staring at sparkling stars slowly slide by.
To use simple bricks homes to build, isn`t shame,
So it`s with words we choose, verses to frame,
No need for pompous, grandiloquent art
To touch the innermost depth of the heart.
Simple words cutely used sparkle delight,
Illuminate the common mind with light,
In humble verses, the inner self gleams,
Reflecting life's limpid lingering dreams.
High sounding verbiage sounds harsh to ears,
Grips the mind of the bulk of souls with fears~
Simplicity isn`t mediocrity,
But the mirror of true humility.
Slide ever so slowly O Life,
I’ve many a debt to meet still,
Many an ache, pain to treat still,
To do some duties discreet still.
Some were upset in daily drill,
Some lost life's bet, some feeling ill,
Those upset, to welcome back still,
To win back the weary ’s wit still.
Some desires stuck are as dreams still,
Some work be done, debited still,
To heal hurts and harms of heart still,
Bury the dead, soothe bereaved still.
Some bonds that whilst bonding bore chill,
Links broken down on the anvil,
Nurse wounds of all relationships,
Tie up all these pending tasks still.
So, O Life, walk ahead of me,
Can I ever live without thee?
To whose blessing breathes my life,
Can I ever defeat its will?
Slide ever so slowly O Life,
I’ve many a debt to meet still,
_____________________________________________
Ghazal |11.12.2023| life
Poet’s notes: The year 2023 is about to bid goodbye. So is the life being lived. The poet here entreats time to slide by slowly, he has many a thing to do. Translation of a Hindi piece.
Time
Stone-faced clock with big black hands
Circling the face time and time again
The second-hand rolls by a recurring space
Never touching the clock with the concrete face
Twenty-four hours slowly slide by
Not to be changed regardless of tries
A second from now, it will be yesterday
The time clock moves forward twenty-four hours a day
It would be a challenge to push the big hands back
Rotation of Earth's twenty-four-hour track
The big black hands are always on the move
Passed memories are all you can choose
By the time you read this poetic line
The second has circled the face of time
How many times a day do you glance at a clock
Or hear the sound tick tock tick tock
Time sets schedules for things to do
Just like a clock, you're on the move
When your face to face with a timepiece, keep this in mind
You can change your clock, but you can't change the time.
Wilapics Art.
06-19-2023
I push and shove because you’re the only one I wanna love/
Out of all the birds in the sky above you’re my only lovely dove/
I don’t want to get high I just want you next to me we’ll fly/
I never want you to cry I just never want our relationship to run dry/
This kind of effort and care you can’t buy/
I can’t take one more lie as trust is the only way we’ll thrive/
So alive I am to provide for our tribe and for us to strive/
Had a horrific drive but God let me slide by to survive/
No longer out to connive and deprive/
Hopes to derive the best for our lives in my eye/
Focus on the prize to utilize and sanitize strife/
I’m sorry sometimes my words slice like a knife/
My head’s not right with some slights I’ve had in my life/
There’s a different spice I’ve revised with old throws of dice/
Less iced I’ve learned to become more accepting and nice/
It’s the right price if you heard my advice/
I never want to hold you down like a vice or grip too tight/
Just need you to walk with me through the night more into the light
I can hear the slow
thump and thrash
of a ship's propeller
churning the dark and see
the sheer black wall
of a hull slide by,
gathering the river in
like a skirt,
then releasing a train
of wakes to run
up banks and rock
the calm.
Solitary fishermen sit quietly
in private vigils
along the river's length.
All night they stare
into an absolving still
and move between
a mind's floating absence
and the tip of a rod
plumbed to depths
beyond human.
After the ship has passed
they wait
for the river to heal
and mend the lesions
in a tactile language.
Down river
a floodlit smoke stack
rises like a spire
out of the ruins of a factory.
High above,
a great wheeling dome
of seagulls fleck
a charcoal sky
and smear noise across
a vaulted quiet.
A lifetime on I hear
the discordant hymn,
feel the menace
of something moving shapeless
below the reach of words
and wait for the river
to heal.
The moments on the clock
slide by, tick tock.
My mind, my thoughts lag
with the weather playing tag,
the summer heat draws my energy
nothing remains from heart-to-soul synergy.
Perhaps it's age and time
where poetry has no reason nor rhyme,
still, I tend to write words and prose
unsure of where the process goes.
These are mere tidbits of exasperation
the skin growing numb in dreams of perspiration
forgive me as the brain throbs in hesitations,
it's just my random moments of time and space regenerations.
I'm dull-witted and confused
in mind-numbing news.
Some of those closest to me
are concerned my poetry
does not rhyme
every time.
I do not complain,
but try to explain
that total symmetry
is not important to me.
The meaning of a verse
is, for better or worse,
the point of a piece.
Rhymes are just grease.
Mental lubrication to let words slide by,
while I try
to impart a certain feeling,
repulsive or appealing.
This frees myself and my reader from the
tight restraint of what seems sing-song.
But maybe just this once,
I will kind of go along.
blazing snake feeder
a dead, bouncy insect flies
inside the tall grass
slitter and slide by
hiding in the grassy knolls
snake hunting his prey
7/18/20
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2020
Poems creep in like spiders, capturing me in web so fair.
Poems slip in like mice, sticky traps holding them in place.
Poems prance in like majorettes, throwing batons in the air.
Sci-Fi dances around in my muse’s brain, taking all the space.
Poems twirl around my dendrite highway, waking me up.
Poems shake me off the bed, landing me squarely on the floor.
I hear the last line, and I think “was that word buttercup?”
Poems laugh at my consternation, their humor I deplore.
Poems slide by on the wings of undiscovered pretty galaxies.
They jump into my head at restaurants when I cannot find a pin.
Poems dive bomb my bed at night, witch-like in their hex-ease.
They throw themselves at me in bathrooms; I simply cannot win.
I do the best I can though, amusing poems in ways I do not dream.
They throw down words I have never heard, and so I look them up.
Poems own me, taking me hostage in a pretty hostage stream.
Did you hear that? I have to know. Was that word buttercup?
The sky is covered with a sunburst hue that captivates the eyes
The sun appears to melt into ocean as the waves roll in with the tide
I turn to her and whisper as I have a surprise
She lays back as her eyes close as I pass the scent of chocolate as she sighs.
I slowly untie her bikini and ease it off as she smiles.
I dip the paint brush in the warm chocolate as my vision carries for miles.
I ease the chocolate along her bottom lip as I watch her taste.
I lower for a kiss of her sweet lips, leaving nothing to waste.
I then circle the tip of the brush in circles around her firm peaks.
I then ease in for a taste as she arches, I gaze upon her rose as it leaks.
I glide the stem of the brush down her abs to her smooth inner thighs
Her majestic world welcomes me, as I paint her silky walls that bloom before my eyes.
I slowly slide by lips along her silky walls to her wanting pearl.
The taste of chocolate and her sweet nectar is divine as her emotions swirl.
Her rose begins to quiver as I continue to taste and enjoy the pleasure before me.
Her nails grip my back as her legs squeeze, her honey releases, as I feel free.
The child is so cold living in a wild home
No milestones are set
Running away would be best
The sun didn’t shine today in his tint
I should pray for him
Dope dealer slide by in the Benz he wish he drove
How long will the boy yell bingo
Before traveling a road trafficked with c notes
These jokes you over hear from mobster tales are nothing you should share over
pasta
Sea shells project sounds of our faith
The boy walk in the intersection to test his faith
One case push mom and dad away
How long will he walk without knowing
sometimes I put in words in the wrong place
for instance , today my honey called and said she would be
home sooner than expected.
Being sincere I replied. “you’re coming home so soon?
what I meant to say and pardon me for my grammar was to say
“so you’re coming home soon.”
the so got put in too late in my response.
I was not apprehended for that.
another time she was talking about going away for a few days.
I was pleased that she was taking time for herself.
I responded and said “I know that I will be happy that you’re going away”
so there again I mixed up the words, what I meant was I am happy
that you are taking time to go away. and the cats feel the same way I do. well that sort of slide by without a reprimand.
when she returned, she asked if I miss her. I looked at the cats
to see they’re reaction, one of them said ‘say yes’.
Yes I did honey
she added why did it take you time to reply?
well you asked me too late, if you called and asked me if I missed you
I would have immediately said yes, but now that you’re home
I felt that you were here too soon. OPPS…..
if you see me sleeping in the park, please bring me
a grammar book!
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