5 Poems by Poet Laureate Candice James

Guest Poet Candice James

Guest Poet Candice James

The Arts and Entertainment Magazine has had the great honor to present poetry from one of the great Canadian poets of our time in previous issues. Once again we welcome some of the works of Poet Laureate Candice James to grace our publication. The following poems were recently copyrighted by Candice and we now have the pleasure of letting our readers see them :

90 Less On 8th

© 2013 Candice James

90 less on 8th
With one breath left remaining
To kick at the cat.
On a dog day afternoon
That defies all explaining
I remove my hat.

We were three, then two then one
With one left here
To drop the bat.

Then one became two and three
As different as could be
And none of them were one.
They came undone.

When there was 90 more on 8th
How simple life was then.
One turned into forty, sixty.
I can’t remember when
The numbers became hazy
And blended into three, two one
And finally into none.

I became undone.

90 less on 8th
Was there ever three or two
Or was there only one?

90 less on 8th today
When all is said and done…
Was there ever one
Or was one really none?



© Candice James, Poet Laureate

A flash of marble in the doorway
Faltering in the gleam of sunlight
Spilling over the threshold
Into a cup of cool water clutched in my hand
Seeping over my lips
Slaking the ache in the pit of my throat

Inside this escalator dreamscape
The statues stand in silence
Checkmate to ancient secrets
On the marble squared game of chance
Gleaming in these halls of glory

I am the pawn time opposes
In my glitter sequined robe
Deposed from all thrones I laid claim to
Loitering in dust riddled dreams

With rusty scabbard in hand
I brandish the cloyed atmosphere
And slice through the edge of this dream
To spill over the threshold of this doorway
The cup of cool water in my hand
Empty now.
I no longer thirst.

The needles of time
Sew this dreamscape
Into my pocket of illusions.
The statues dissolve.


 Industrial Ghosts
© 2014 Candice James

The pale grey industrial ghosts
Move slowly against the darkened sky
Making their way home
To the multicoloured neon neighbourhood
Of their corporate parents,
Skinning their knees and elbows
On skyscraper concrete
And parking lot grates
That creak and groan their goodbyes
To the parade of vehicles
Departing the weary premises
On soiled rubber soul dreams.

These pale grey changeling figures
Move through the fog and exhaust
Unnoticed in the crush of night;
Becoming more invisible
As the wheel of time turns
The last corner of the morning.

Dawn breaks
As the pale industrial ghosts
Re-appear at the factories,
Ready to linger through another day of work,
Champing at the bit
For the dark horse of night
And release
To set them free again.

© 2014 Candice James

We are star-seed,
Comet dust,
A universal sigh,
Connections dimensionalizing
In a parallax of infinite electricity.

We are electric,
Ascetic, eclectic,
Forgotton, remembered melodies
Drifting through energy,
Echoing songs
We write for each other.

We are frequency,
Sound everlasting,
Soothing, restless spirit
Lifting the heavy heart.

The seen
And the unseen,
We have always been.

We are Star-seed.

White On Black On White
© 2014 Candice James

White on black on white on black.
Checkerboard past
Tiling into the present.
Secrets spill out
And disappear like apparitions
Led to the slaughter.
A million dreams spent like water,
A thousand paths of glory
Never traveled.

White on black on white on black.
Snow on slate
Skidding through an Orca moment.
Iceberg horses of the high tundra
Pacing racing
To finish the dance
They wish they had never started,
Throwing their shoes
Under an anvil wave
Drowing in the deep.

White on black on white,
Never a hint of grey.
Oppostie sides of the pendulum
Yet still one with the structure.
The chess pieces run,
Tiling into the eternal now,
Reflections of a mirrored future
Into white on black on white
Ad inifinitum.


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