Tell me, when we meet with a smile,
Tell me of the fondness for love.
The taverns of the city have long vanished,
Tell me if you can bring wine to my lips.
Roses scattered on the paths you can gather,
Tell me if you can piece together the broken me.
Each moment has passed in trembling fear,
Tell me if you can become the final hope.
We usually move ahead without looking back,
Tell me if you can call me home again.
Even your presence feels like a punishment,
Tell me if I still live within you.
This mirror has already shattered,
Tell me if your eyes can still make sense of it.
---
Form: Ghazal
“The Atom under the influence of Chit (universal knowledge) forms the Chitta or the calm state of mind, which when spiritualized is called Buddhi, Intelligence. Its opposite is Manas, Mind, in which lives the Jiva: the self with Ahamkara, Ego, the idea of separate existence.”
~ extract from ‘The Holy Science’
Mistaken that we are this body-mind,
we then seek to enhance its well-being,
caring not to become divine aligned,
delusion that prevents us from seeing.
Dwelling in darkness we remain as such,
accepting our assumed limitation
till ceasing thinking, we live life by touch,
rapturous in all time meditation.
Ego is but an earth life interface,
helping soul to navigate this terrain.
Believing we are it, is our disgrace,
yet with false sense of pride we wear this chain.
Shifting into silence, coming undone,
we then realise God and we are one.
Form: Sonnet
Leukemia boys and
Leukemia girls wave
in hospital volunteers,
as the angels wave
them away.
What is
love?
Beyond
an overpriced
ambulance ride,
and an unnecessary
hospital stay?
The most beautiful things:
summer sweat,
and Rome after
rain.
Inside,
a child draws
a yellow sun
with trembling fingers.
The IV, taped
down like it’s trying
to hold him
there.
Forced positivity.
A heart full of
apathy.
I see that
same world you try
to see with substance sober,
and I’ll be the first to tell you—
it isn’t a
blessing.
God has a
hand-grenade
smile, and it’s
hard to find
the grace
in that.
There’s
6 dead, 4 wounded,
and one on the
way.
What an
unimpressive
collection.
Form: Free verse
momentarily
wait hesitate and dream-
imagination cries
unshackled
conception awakens-
formulates
hiku=haiku-in-english
Doubled= 2 separate stand-alone untitled hiku - capable of unifying into a six-liner
Form: Other
I lie awake at night
Thinking of the loves
And opportunities for intimacy
I have missed
Form: Free verse
A Porch Swing's Tale
The sun hangs low, a bruised peach in the sky
my old boots are caked with the red dust of a journey I never started
three
This here porch swing rocks on, steady and slow
but my soul feels like it's caught between the back porch and the front gate
somewhere between a hello and a goodbye, a solid six
And the cricket's song ain't a happy one, it's a lonesome, weary sigh
I'm stuck in the middle, still waiting for the rain to wash the road clean
This ain't a home, but it's not the open road either. It's just a place.
Form: Other
You said I never tried enough,
But I thought showing up was love.
I held your hand through quiet storms,
But never knew how deep they cut.
You wanted words —
I gave you time.
You wanted truth —
I gave you signs.
You asked for more than I could name,
And all I gave felt just… the same.
I saw your tears, I heard your cries,
But all I did was memorize
The way your anger masked your ache —
I thought, “She’s mad. I’ll give her space.”
I didn’t read between your lines.
I thought we’d heal with passing time.
But silence grew where warmth had been,
And now I hear you… in your pen.
The book you wrote — it speaks of me.
A ghost of what I tried to be.
You say I vanished, broke your heart…
But darling, I was torn apart.
I wasn’t right, I wasn’t kind —
But I was scared and misaligned.
And when you said you'd tell them all,
I built a wall. I let us fall.
You called it love. I called it pain.
Two hearts that broke beneath the strain.
We both were right in our own way —
But I regret I walked away.
Form: Rhyme
Leukemia boys and
Leukemia girls wave
in hospital volunteers,
as the angels wave
them away.
What is
love?
Beyond
an overpriced
ambulance ride,
and an unnecessary
hospital stay?
The most beautiful things:
summer sweat,
and Rome after
rain.
Inside,
a child draws
a yellow sun
with trembling fingers.
The IV, taped
down like it’s trying
to hold him
there.
Forced positivity.
A heart full of
apathy.
I see that
same world you try
to see with substance sober,
and I’ll be the first to tell you—
it isn’t a
blessing.
God has a
hand-grenade
smile, and it’s
hard to find
the grace
in that.
There’s
6 dead, 4 wounded,
and one on the
way.
What an
unimpressive
collection.
Form: Free verse
PHILIPPIANS 4-6
Count all those blessings
You’ve been given
Be it soul thankful
Of your all delivering
No fretting on yesterdays
Or now tomorrows
Abba Father doesn’t clean you sorrows
Let you be gratitude received
Fill your heart for all that God has done
For you and me
Focus on your blessing, not your struggles
Our Father Originator of all
Promises and blessings
Let you be gratitude received
Fill your heart for all that God has done
For you and me
Focus on your blessing, not your struggles
Our Father Originator of all
Promises and blessings
7/6/25
Written words & music by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
From “I CRY OUT TO YOU”
Form: Lyric
Backlit in life’s shadows –
the exacting burden of responsibilities –
you are lost.
Bathed in light amongst shadows
of trials and tribulations that
internal hope defrosts;
one can but surmise
your inner strength,
as the light bends to reveal the cost.
Form: Other
The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel
The Boxer-verse 6
I’ve truly fought the good fight
And I’ve lost more than I’ve won
But no matter what the outcome
I know that I can live with pride
For I gave the best I could in every fight
Lie la lie, lie la lie la lie
Form: Lyric
Sneezing again,
Somewhat lost control over me.
Again.
And now the seasons changed,
Summer’s walking out on me.
Again.
The nicotine chain,
Forcing down another twenty.
Again.
Wheezing refrain,
I feel the rain pouring down on me.
Yet again.
Reminisce again of the roof above,
Something that once held over me.
But the sky now drops tears,
Joyless tears,
Again.
Love washed over me.
Again.
Pointlessly in love,
Your eyes never hold on to me.
I’m just pointlessly in love,
Washing my memories with golden relief.
The gold shines above,
The sky sing songs bittersweet melodies.
Now,
Again.
Form: Free verse
"You may now not serve this country
Though you may be fit and kind
I tell you this quite bluntly
I will suppress your kind
Petitions and the public
Shall never hassle my laws;
Amist a starving republic
They believe me
When I tell them you are the flaws
For I've convince them all the bathrooms
Are threatening where you lurk
I've convinced them all your schools
Are full of your witching work
So drink up; sweet deceit tastes good
I shall convince them you are a crime
My plan has made it thus far
And continues
One sip at a time."
Form: Rhyme
I slept at the foot of the mountain,
There’s cheese in the trap waiting,
Bait out the prey,
Counting out every second it’s taking.
Haven’t ate in several days,
In a week.
Listen for the snap,
Now there’s dinner in the trap waiting.
I forgot my second language,
Guess I have nothing worth saying.
Thank god for this dinner,
Practice patience by leaving my plate untouched,
I haven’t finished or even begun praying.
Blue meats,
I need my flames for American Spirits and Marlboro’s I’ve been partaking in.
Form: Free verse
All morning thoughts, to paper, aren’t meant to be,
many are reserved for future time or day.
So some, will rest like leaves fallen from a tree,
thereby to hibernate and slowly decay.
But a few will incline to serve God’s intent,
those whisper to me from deep within my heart.
Oft times its an avenue for me to vent,
but to be God’s witness I’ve been set apart.
Form: Lyric
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