In 1969 Halloween night was way beyond creepy.
The moon seemed evil, I got almost weepy
At the age of seventeen, this was rare for me indeed
Poe and his raven visited me, this was the final seed.
I felt intimidated now, why was a famous poet here?
He told me to relax, called me his darling little dear.
Told me that one day I would be writing poems too.
This did not help me. I was seventeen, determined to be blue.
Impoverished raise like farming
Owning a pig, lots of chickens, rooster, hen;
Not in the sixteen-hundreds;
Made one’s own foods from scratch,
This foyer placement in time itch;
Below the Mason-Dixon Line, 1969;
Charleston, Missouri woe to--
Tom Sawyer’s
---Black friend Jim
3/24/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
I met her
on the boardwalk ramp
and said ...
“You Have Nice Eyes”
The Gypsy Lady
fixed her gaze
my hand in hers
replied ...
“White hates black
and black hates white
their fear right now
forbids
“Division preys
to rule the land
fate drifting
on the skids
“But just remember
this one thing
if we are
to survive
“Coffee colored kids
will reign
to save our souls
— demise”
(Haverford College: February, 2026)
the eagle has landed
July 20th, 1969
Apollo II’s lunar module
moon touch down
Neil Armstrong
“one giant step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”
This was all over the TV but I was not watching
I was seventeen and had better things to do.
It seemed boring to me.
teen magazine came out in the late sixties
my mother bought it for my sister and I
every cover featured a blonde girl with blue eyes
she looked l like she surfed in California
Inside there were ads, ads, ads, ads, ads and ads.
It was a slick magazine with lots of glossy pages.
the items they sold looked enticing and necessary.
We did not have the money to buy any of this.
There were a couple of stories, and maybe a comic or two.
But the ads were the kicker.
They showed us things we never hoped to be able to purchase.
After a while, we lost our enthusiasm for this magazine.
A Friday,
a plane crash,
a phone call,
all it took
for your whole world to shatter.
You never got to tell them
how you’d follow in his footsteps
in his wing span
You never got to tell him
that you only wished to follow
in that Cessna Skylane
one three-pronged tragedy
became the axis
around which the rest of your stories
would turn
one sorrowful night
changed who you were
forever
and by the time I came along
all your fire
ferocity,
passion
had crashed into electric wire
erupted into flames
had been decapitated
and so it is left to me
to honor your mother,
and your brother
in ways you never taught me
but I learned anyway.
And I will ignore
the memory of Grandpa George,
because he crashed that damn plane
on purpose…
or did he?
Thought I heard a bluebird sing
somewhere over the rainbow
I was wrong 'twas but a song
playing away there on the radio
bought a garland and some gum
for Frances the girl next door
sadly due to a bad accident in London
the unfortunate lady is here no more
studio moguls and public pressures
to their shame were to blame no doubt
but the brainless Scarecrow simply said
of her... 'She just plain wore out'
1969 MY FIRST GRADE FIELD TRIP TO ABRAHAM LINCOLN HOME SPRINGFIELD ILLINOIS TOMB MY FIRST GRADE CLASS CHIOR WAS INVITED TO SING CIVIL RIGHTS HYMNS MARIAN ANDERSEN HYMNS SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE A MOTHERLESS CHILD THIS WAS AFTER MARTIN LUTHER KING ASSASSINATION SADLY MY IMPOSTER JAY TOWNSEND JOHNSON HENRY MY STALKER MY IDENTITY ATTEMPTED TO IMPERSONATE ME AFTER BREAKING IN MY HOME FOR GARGANO EXPOSED TO PARTS OF MY MENTAL HEALTH JOURNAL GROWING IN CHICAGO DURING CIVIL RIGHTS RIOTS FIRST GRADE MY IMPOSTER WAS ACTUALLY BORN IN 1969 I WAS IN FIRST GRADE SINGING MY HEART OUT FOR FREEDOM IN AMERICA NO WAY A JAMAICAN STALKER COULD POSSIBLY BE ME I WAS SHOCKED AT HER GAUL HER OBSESSIONAL HATRED RAGE FOR ME AS A WRITER THIS BEGAN HER IMPERSONATING ME
July 20,1969
Kennedy’s promise was fulfilled
the Eagle landed
Resting on a bench
outside the old city wall
I heard a tapping.
A blind man was approaching.
As he felt his way
he would tap my legs,
so I said hello.
He sat beside me
and asked who I was.
I spoke no Hebrew,
Shlomo hardly any English.
He tried German and Spanish.
A little French we had in common.
Lonely I guess,
he asked me
back to his place,
a short walk
and down to a basement,
bare essentials
spotless.
He brewed coffee,
cautioned me
not to move anything
lest he could not find it.
He had lost his sight
in the Arab Israeli war of 1948.
There was much else
he tried to share.
I listened
but could not comprehend.
I felt humbled.
When I left
he was so grateful,
gave me his address.
I wrote
but did not hear back.
Who would read it for him?
Like returning to a place in a dream:
sound of one hand clapping:
the mottled butterfly haphazardly flits
into the welcoming Light of day.
July 21st, 1969 / No Need to Play
It was 9:56 AM as I sat in the living room with my eyes glued to the television, and heard Neal Armstrong proclaim to the universe, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” For a twelve-year old’s imagination, hopes and dreams, this was not just a step onto the moon, but a step into the heavens. My heart pounded and my mind raced at what promised to be the beginning of a new way of life. My God, we’d just touched the surface of another world. Nothing would ever be the same again. If we could do this then there would be no problems that mankind could not overcome. Overpopulation, famine and war would no longer haunt us. Star Trek had it right all along. We were now free to move among the stars. Surely, it would only be a matter of a few years and there would be a colony on the Moon, then Mars and then beyond our solar system. The expanse of the universe was now our playground. Nothing can hold humanity back. By the end of the week, baseball, fishing, and summer days had pushed the momentous occasion out of my mind.
Without a grand prize
who care if there’s a winner;
humanity lost
Too stoned to care
wild eyes and hair
My friend and I dare
to order four pizzas
Where are your friends
the manager inquired
Oh, they’ll be here in a bit
our tongues purebred liars
Well, we snarfed down the pizzas
though ‘our friends’ never showed
So, when we asked the proprietor
how much we owed…
He told us $200 bucks
‘coz it’s just your good luck
to meet up with a fellow sleaze
who understands your ‘munchies’
~ and has already contacted the fuzz
Dreams of tropical beaches
The dead won't let me sleep
Money got me always on my feet
A certain gift a contempt behind closed doors
The sweetness of life illusions spelled out in a dream
The dead won't let me weep
Never ashamed but rather in awe
Some kind of wonder that deulification
To match your hypnotic blame
Just you be certain
I become a cowboy when all around me is shame
I carry a gun to keep your demons away
This pen won't kill me in my sleep
Obscure songs trap me in a theatre with hand puppets and magic wands
To always bring me back to a time without a clock
Just an old cabin a squeaky door and a dog laying on the floor
The dead makes me remember
To wake up early when the sun brings life to its feet
Riding into the edge of dawn
Flying with grace how she wore swan song feathers
When I was 7 I could have been 9
But back then it was the life of a band.
So here I sit
Just waiting for the man
Dedicated to John Cale and Jim Morrison
And 1969
Matthew Perry, American series. »Friends » 1969 2023
Bye, Bye, Chandler Bing,
You were the good friend,
Always ready to make you laugh,
You were Monica’s friend,
In the American series «Friends»
You will never grow old,
Your departure is so sudden,
It feels like a comedy,
Bye, Bye, Matthew Perry,
Your life was a fairy tale,
If we want to smile again,
Just think of you,
To your bright face,
In the cafe «central perk»
Bye, bye, Chandler Bing,
What a great idea to die in Los Angeles,
The city of angels, you were one,
Your place now is in our hearts.
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