Five More Poems by Poet Laureatte Candice James

Candice James, Poet Laureate

Candice James, Poet Laureate

White Wine Scroll

I unroll

From the white wine scroll

In beads of scarlet passion.

Hot to the touch,

Wet to the soul;

Mining the moment,

Invisibly staining claims.


This is uncharted territory

Rife with unwritten glory,

Sanctified with the breath of lost angels.


In a distant cave,

A rainbow spins

Drawing me in

Like metal to magnet.


A pale turquoise haze

Blankets the ceiling

Simulating ancient skies

When everything was easier,

When breathing reached a deeper core.



Into a million splinters,


Into unknown territories

I climb

Into the white wine scroll

Of scarlet passion

And stain myself

On its soul.


Unanswered Prayers

You prayed for me,

Or someone else like me.


We met sacrilegiously

On the backlit trick of a full moon;

And I pretended to love you.

Black diamonds splintered

Into stilettos of ice,

Wounding your tender heart;

And I pretended to care.


After a while,

I ripped of my mask and disguise.

Your naivety broke open,

A raw heart filled with a million teardrops,

Cooked to a crisp

Beneath my fiery gaze.


I took you

Past the point of pretense

Where you learned how to truly pray.


We met again


On the backlit trick of a new moon.


You walked past me.

You had learned the value

Of unanswered prayers.


They Called It Love

And they called it love,

For want of a better word,

To describe the relationship.

They stumbled onto the rim of chance

At the edge of life’s precipice.


And they called it love

In the sweet of the night

When they made it something new:

Uncharted emotions,

Torrid intensities,

Sliding down the blade

Of the word they were searching for.


Twilight lovers,

Shuffled into sundown,

They laid their cards on the table.


It was a push…

A gentle pull;

So they called it love,

For want of a better word.



© 2013 Candice James


And now…

The final journey begins.

I walk through powdered rose petals

On a stretch of silver sand

Travelling with ghosts from my past

And familiar angels

To the Inn of The Seventh Tranquility.


Under a metallic translucent sky

The coo of a dove drifts

On the whisper of the waves.

Beneath a forgiving sun

I see the gold dusted pathway

To the Inn of The Seventh Tranquility


I can see clearly now.

Through the years of indecision,

The moments of indiscretion,

Faulty choices and wasted days and nights

My compass point has remained magnetized

Drawing me unwittingly yet relentlessly, to my destiny.


Through the heartaches and tears,

The laughter and smiles

The successes and failures

From the depths of despair to the heights of success

Coming full circle and repeating again.

The unchangeable karma and wheels of precision

Carrying me to the Inn of the Seventh Tranquility.


At the last steps, weary and fragile

I am lifted by a flurry of wings

From the veiled mists of life

To the Inn of the Seventh Tranquility

Where I rest in the arms of the angels

As the final journey ends.



© Candice James, Poet Laureate


In the sound of shadows

Circular haloes extend themselves

Through hollow nights

And non-descript days

Chewing on sunbeams and moonglow

Exhaling mist and fog

Into my already dampened spirit


In the sound of shadows

There is no music, no cadence,

Only a haunting hum of whispers

I don’t want to hear

But they grow louder

Clawing incessantly

With long bony fingers

At a memory that lingers

Slicing my mind with reality

Peppering my heart with lies and truths

Spilling onto the mirrors of my soul

The smell of dank earth extends itself

Resurrecting images

Better left dead.


In the sound of shadows

I hear everything

Except my own voice.

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