Skip to main content Help Control Panel

Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Member Pages

James Zealy
Only In The Eyes of the Beholder

Beauty depends on who is lookin'

*
Kailey's Place This is my niece, she doesn't know how good she is. Raw but I think gifted.
» Granddaddy II
» Granddady
» Grandmommy

on Jan. 10 2012

Her Tree

Her tree is the tree of knowledge

Inspired it grows tall



Her tree is the seed of inspiration

That for ever questions all



Her tree is the flow of grace

Dancing to her own song



Her tree lives eternally

As its roots grow strong



Her tree is a branch in the wind

Reaching for a nourishing sun



Her tree is a second of despair

Surviving frosts of dawn



Her tree survives in dreams

Of future whispers of calm



Her tree is quioxte

Fighting the woodsman's brawn



Her tree is the land

Planted between her roots



Her Tree is waiting

For a care taker's salute



Her Tree is listening

As hope wind whispers



Her tree bears fruit

Walking on forest slippers



Her tree's gift

Falls to waiting needs



Her tree is the tree of knowledge

Cast free from shackles all



on Jul. 27 2009

Flamingo's and Looking Glasses

Flamingo fantasy, Looking Glass lies
Assert with certain uncertainty
What is balderdash and what is guise
Reflections of childish purity

Gaze back and attract
Whimsical wild child
In adult garb bric a brac
Looking Glass wilderness abide

Step through if you dare
It calls to her impudence
She could not pass on a scare
So through the Glass with out a glance

She steps to meet Alice.
and Mr Flamingo an obstinate pink.
He Pokes his beak at her without malice
Evokes a loud raucous guffaw and blinks

Predictably unpredictable you know
She Grabs Alice by the hand
Mr flamingo by his beak that blows
And Prances off to some music band

They shimmy and shake with glee
Laugh and giggle pronounce
Kids we are kids we will be
'Til there are no years left to count

Nightfall approaches and the music slows
Alice lays in the tracks of their play
Pouting, her lip is morose
And back through the mirror she wades

It is twilight, the sky is bereft
And She seems to have lost count
Of all the years she has left
It matters not how they mount

Kids we are kids we will be
As long as the Flamingo's are pink
And the music plays loud and giddy
And the Looking Glass is in synch

on Jul. 5 2007

A Picture With no Name

Young dumb and October 1972.
A picture with no NameA picture with no Name

A Color image falls 

From a ragtag scrap book
Full of memories

The stale forgotten event
Snaps back the moment
I see young wide eyes looking back
Yet I cannot place an identity
On anyone except myself

Even the central focus
Whose natural easy smile
Reflected deep
And long cascading brown hair
Wrapped her relaxed round face

An instant rush returns
Amid thoughts of summer kisses
And a first sensual closeness

I was at best socially inept
It seemed this was an exciting beginning
And a chance to grow beyond that awkwardness

Hope welled in my heart,
Amid the beginnings of more
Only to have those feelings decimated
By a letter that said a terse goodbye

If only I could remember her name
If only I could forget the moments
If only I could forget her angelic face
If only

on Jan. 20 2009

Please Understand

I have known a few am married to one, and have a daughter that fits the description. Just let me say life is not boring.

Please understand
Descendants of Brigit
Are passionate essence incarnate
Fragile whisps of spirit alight

While hands clasp her heart
The crown points inside
Always inside
Whose inner sanctum plays heart notes

Even solitary and conflicted
Her heart is the Cladagh
No matter what demons display
To distort her perception

To love brigit's heirs
Is to understand
Passion and conflict
Creativity and loyalty

It Is not a description
It is their core
It is part of their beauty
And can never be destroyed

No written word
No faux emotion
No adroit manipulation
No entrapment

Please understand
There is no other way

on Nov. 20 2008

Behind Her Eyes

Smart girl who had a less than perfect body image. At 16 who knows the difference.

Can you see her uncertain smile
Applied with shy pain strokes
Round face epochal tiled
Olympus intellect evoked
Languished in brilliant eye quivers

Guilty for careless feelings I disregard
Riddles of life juxtaposed
After answers appear composed
Heralded when honesty aligns my scars
Ambivalent cancer of my heart
Maligns ID image Cathart

on Nov. 3 2008

Beacon Oh Beacon

Beacon Oh Beacon
Guardian harbor light
Isolated towers height

Beacon Oh Beacon
Surrounded by infinite liquidity
Crumbling antiquated serendipity

Beacon Oh Beacon
Ancient productivity cast
By a saviour past

Beacon Oh Beacon
Maroon banded finger tipped
Iron cage light bereft

Beacon Oh Beacon
Gull winged sail
Circling amid sky blue pale

Beacon Oh Beacon
Demise articulated at last
As waves engulf last gasp

 

 

 

on Oct. 31 2008

In Plain Sight

My daughter was 2 when we knew she could see. We took the most profound picture of her kneeling flat footed, and reaching for a yellow jonquil. simple beauty at its best.

Fragile simple beauty
Is not noticeable
Even in plain sight

Yellow petals reach
Skyward as if to say
Come to me please

Brown curly haired waif
Approaches and answers
The petals plea

Revelation of sight
Miraculous wonderment appease
Answers Jonquil bequest

Tiny hand flat footed knelt
Extends to meet
And touches beauty in plain sight

on Oct. 2 2008

Chocolate Kiss

There is nothing like a chocolate kiss

A sugary sweet confection
Tantalizes, tempts, as an object of affection
Alas restraint, is pursuaded by passion
A wonderful, sinful obsession

A Special kiss covered in red, oh the power
Its smell as fragrant as any flower
Gathers senses anew
Shines like a rose, glistening in the morning dew

My fingers tremble in anticipation
Strip slowly the red exterior, its protection
Sweet smell overpowers, as the divinity
Melts slowly as my fingers probe its elegant simplicity

Leisurely the delicacy approaches my lips
A succulent reminder on my fingertips
I Chew slowly to enjoy its taste
Each finger tip sucked, nothing left to waste

I savor the rush of flavor
That Adorns my tongue, a sweet savior
Slowly the taste fades as the kiss dissolves
An image lingers of sensual resolve

A climax of pleasure
A seismic treasure
Settles the intensity
Hiding for an instance, life’s mundane propensity

on Sep. 12 2008

Sepia Sunset

 Sun sets over
A gapped wooden Orifice
Its toothy wooden smile
Semi circles endless

Sepia sail clouds
Weep sunlight spears
Highlights the aging
Raised walkway

We follow its trail
Wobbling in wonderment
Through cricket orchestras
And mayfly squadrons

Honey suckle perfume
Seduces our senses
As we nestle 'neath
An isolated cypress



bridge.jpg

Earthquakes

The year was 1970. I was a senior in high school. Goldsboro High School whose school mascot was the "Earthquakes" was integrated. At the time the school literally doubled in size. The freshman and sophomores were in the old junior high, and the juniors and seniors were in the high school. Our school mascot changed to the cougars, which was not common to either group black or white. There was no violence to speak of but both groups lost their sense of place and identity. At point our school became nothing more than a building to both groups.

 Alone and disconnected
When celebrations arose
We slow motion executed
Dances with no purpose

Dance prom date Affliction
With a fantom partner
Wasted times meaning less depiction
Faux smile picture photographer

Painfully aware our last year
Was a politcal mockery
When colors were mixed with no care
Spun in a wasteland of empty pastry

Amid the less than perfect times
We all yearned for what was rent
When days and meanings were like lost rhymes
Earth Quake glory spent

Victims were we 
When the waring blender mix
Was spurned as the red sea
Parted equal sections wisked

All I wanted was a prom date that mattered
A good time to remember
An event that was not battered
A partner that was tender

It took almost 4 score years to find
Someone that felt as lost as I
Who wished to be found at the Inn
Amid our insecurity disguise

Rewind a moment and pretend
That a lost time could be saved
Wish for a pleasant begin
And replace the empty space

Share
* Invite participants
* Share at Facebook
* Share at Twitter
* Share at LinkedIn
* Reference this page
Monitor
Recent pages
Recent files
Member Pages »