Jazz
rocked by wind
ponders reptilian riddles,
trails of slow ants, riffs and rants,
hot licks, cool kicks, all aglow on the griddle.

The old sax moans
beneath trumpet’s blare,
bass strumming blue notes
reverberates mellow as
brass shiny bright
starts to blare and to bellow.

Sinewy strands compressed,
expand, lifting, drifting, totally grand.
A tiptoe romp through the thistledown,
floats sluggish water, warm green-brown.
Closed to the sun the back beat rocks
funneling high pitched wails,
a staircase leading nowhere
exposes sound impaled

Covert flights
holiday lights a magic carpet ride
astride the tide,
the thread spreads,
frays, splays;
Unearthed, un-rehearsed,
the prequel unequalled.

Night air races traffic's hiss
the sirens high-pitched whine,
The lady sings the blues
the notes a ball of twine;
ringing, unstringing,
that hand on hip sassy sashay
mischief making, wild shaking
carnival ride for the taking.

Sharpness dissipates
to licked over whisper,
lilting spill of soft caress.
Melody weaves through waves of heat
plinking notes across the plain,
unrestrained notes of pain;

Hunger, plight, blossom at night.
Jungle drums, trills, runs,
the tiger prowls its bite so deep
spilling blood exposing meat.  

Sultry hot
or sterile cool,
that's jazz folks,
there are no rules.

An inkling
Dripping
From the tip of a quill.
It sways,
As deep oceans do,
On long journeys
To new worlds,
New lives.
But still
You send letters
In old bottles across the sea
Hoping they don't sink
Simply because you know I'd love
That kind of thing.

© Shane Leigh
I love old things!! Lol the letter in a bottle is just one.  (: Enjoy!!
Shane Leigh Jan 11

This is not poetry,
and this is not heartstrings
playing sad lullabies
in the deep spaces of your mind.

This is not poetic;
this is not reading
stanza after stanza
wanting to know what's at the end.

This is not rhythmic,
nor sensual or smooth,
nor is it flowing like words should from the tongues of those that know which words to use.

This is simple.
These are words that make sense
without peaking around corners
or hiding behind luscious similes
or over used metaphors
and out of touch symbolism.

If this is not poetry,
then
I refuse to dub myself
a poet
and will continue on,
but write prose instead.

© Shane Leigh
Enjoy (:
Shane Leigh Jan 4

I watched the moon
As it rose
Behind a whisp of gray clouds
Like a reflection
In water,
Shining through the ripples of the tides,
Shining beyond sheen
And still holding the center of my eye.

© Shane Leigh
Shane Leigh Dec 2017

Hello New Year,
I cannot wait to see you:
Not only for me
But for the people that have regained something,
For the friends that I seldom see,
For the ex-lovers that say they will change,
For the ones that actually have changed,
For my countrymen that hold onto hope,
For those that have lost it -
bring them something special -
For my father's health,
and my mother's patience,
For my younger brother's safety while he serves in our Navy,
For my other brother's love,
For my extended family,
For the one I give my heart to,
For my love.

For all the heroes
Everyday
That sacrifice a little more of themselves
To sing Happy New Year
And say hello to you
Just as I do.
I say again,
Hello New Year,
I cannot wait to see you.

© Shane Leigh
Enjoy (: and I hope you ALL enjoy your New Year.
Shane Leigh Dec 2017

What can be said that has not been
by someone else
and others before them?
You seem distant,
she said.
I've just been tired,
he said.

When words swim
in her mind
full of doubt
in pools of tragedy
that he knows nothing about
                  ...
but then,
if he had held her close
when she curled between his knees;
if he had READ her text messages
rather than just read her messages;
if he had told her
what was eating away at him
when she outstretched her hand
                 ...
AND
if she had been more patient;
if she had worried a bit less
and wondered a little more;
if she had the confidence
to believe he truly loved her ...

well then
         maybe,
            just maybe,
                he truly could have
                     loved her more
                          than the one
                         he had before.

© Shane Leigh
Enjoy (:
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