I walk into the darkness,
my Father holds my hand
Naked in Him barefooted
I see with my spiritual eye, dimension spirit realm
I hear with my ears, heavenly things
I touch with my soul, abundantly beings
Angels sing I can hear them calling
I walk not afraid, I am with my heavenly host
I walk not with a stranger, but with Jesus Christ
Elohim gives direction, pause, accentuation,
and even interruption
restoration constitution
Halleluiah
Selah
1/19/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
n January you're planning a September recital
for your orchestra with your Son Peter
You are reddened by the warmth,
creative sounds
Whereas I am with my poetry
pushing the boundaries
reading yesteryears accentuation
shifting my craft
you’ve liked my pastoral poems
I await your sonic bites
You're clearing on an audible path
from another worldcolor:
pouring light into your notescolor:
Forty-eight contiguous states,
Everglades to the Evergreen
Plus Alaska and Hawaii,
Joined as one on separate dates,
The Constitution guarantee,
After the war had, intervene,
Restored order did reconvene,
Our laws need interpretation,
For people accentuation,
No other country is as best,
For God and country, we are blessed,
We tempt to rest under our flag,
Though some find it to be a drag,
Some will draw a disgusting tag,
Liberty is constantly fought,
Snicks will bribe and tempt it is bought,
From ocean to ocean, we strive,
Prosperous life we tempt to thrive,
Mundane diversions hinder souls,
Same as the Jones, best some station,
Be true to yourself, reach your goals,
Be free, under God, one nation.
2019 December 29
Either Peace Monger or Dissident
My poems actually apply their own ammunition
At the same provide personal all competition
And adequately replacing need for any test
Already knowing mine are always the best.
(Notice accentuation of letter "A" for BEST.)
Subject each day should be current affairs
Standing out not having to dig through layers
Maybe bus, plane or perhaps train that wrecked
Politicians by wives who have become hen-pecked.
Now that my brain I have completely wracked
Wise jokes and comments constantly cracked
Need I with my poems have to further explain
Difference between drop in bucket and down drain.
Those are Bernie's plans I recently read about
Likelihood of happening there is much doubt
And if President wherever he would have went
They would call him peace monger and a dissident.
if my shyness was a loquacious
heartbeat helping me to live,
would you give it a gentle massage
to help keep it alive
accentuation in certain aspects can
be so ridiculously overblown
so much so that the expressive inside
is often overlooked
if my bashfulness was an extrovert
helping me to express myself,
would you rub its belly to break up
the stressed flatulence
exclamatory undertones can have
such absurd overtones
so much so that the pathway to God's
Blessing almost always goes unnoticed
I had a passion with no career in mind
Write to soothe hearts and no barter
Sketch the unseen, unheard passage
Make world more worthy for visit
With no intention of popularity or fame
No booker’s prize or running a race
Just flow the ink to caress the ills
Balm the pains, cheer the smiles
Started writing when I was sixteen teen
Now life has opened many new chapters
The passion still the same which pleases me
When I write forget the insanity around
Just feel like flowing with the words
Be simple, no accentuation, stay in hearts
No just tickle to think busy going mind
I write just what I may feel like
It has been quite a years with my life
It’s my companion of comfort in solace
Asking for none giving all more space
Best time I leisure with my diary and pen
Tech world has given me laptop to sung
My poems and stories not just for fun
To touch untouched hearts for all and one
It’s just started … a journey long way with words.
From an old well of an arid environment;
A cool drink has been drawn.
And those who drink are refreshed
As they reflect on days gone by;
Is it that perhaps;
The dream still lives?
Will we once again be; for the people and of the people;
Joined together in equality;
As citizens of a great nation
Hope soars to new heights;
And color serves only as a commitment to accentuation;
Of one to the other; so help us God.
You don't see me
As a woman
You only see me
As your prey
Your next meal
Seeking to devour me
With your razor sharp fangs
Superficially charming
But, I see through your facade
Your smoke and mirrors
Aren't fooling me
Salivating at the
Thought of making
Me your next victim
You feel Carnal desires
Burning inside you
Swelling up like
A tidal wave
Trying to make this
Surfer catch a ride
On your cryptic sailboat
In your sea of
Sacrificial lambs
Cruel deception
Pretty lies
Cool as an
Autumn breeze
With every single
Act of prevarication
That you commit
Shakespearean performances
In your presence
Acting out so many
Histrionic displays
Of drama to seduce
The gullible souls
Who want to understand you
So that you can exsert
Your dyspotic control
Over their lives
Enslaving them
Your narcissism
Prevents you from
Understanding the
Tears they cry
Because of your wrath
Monotone voice
No accentuation
No emphasis can
Be heard because
You don't mean
The words that
Leave your lips
A poker face
Lacking grace
Devoid of sincerity
Communication only
A tool to manipulate
the painting of pictures in the minds of readers of words
Needs wetlip brush stroke consonants as complementary colors
Rhythmic connotation rhymed alliteration as wet accentuation
so their lack of concentration will allow initiation
by sleight of hands of invitation to let forgiving magics fluidic
flow in streams of splashing dashing flashing activation
that lets the wetness of the darkness whisper slithery reactive
to the painted light of reason reflecting faintly wetly on the wall
Is it really there at all? A shiver of sensation a tingle in a fingertip
That empty tasteless hollow feeling behind or in the ears
some words are hard to follow and harder yet to find
Using them is easier than leaving them behind
In the walled wet halls of darkness
By the looking glass of fears
Instinctive genuflection
Self reflective tears
Salty recollections
Chill cold years
Sharp honed
A shiver
Pain
It's gone again
Or was it really
There
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