With blood on the line
He's sent down deep into an abyss
By his chosen true deeds
All trusted allies
With blood on the line
He's been defamed
Hell infringing upon his days
He melds, yeah, he's made
Unto him who listens amiss
Like a river wouldn't flow aback
He's been done hard about
He's back, yeah back and stronger
With blood on the line
Like a ragged-fine linen
He's battered and tattered
By his precious chosen corner
An industrious pain duly inflicted on him
Hard and wise he acclimatized
Like a wronged beast he'll surely devour
A one, and two at the mountain's shore
Life is weak still strengthened with evil
A number of human is but the devil
Grace is gracious to break him free
Thus his come back against the villain
I have almost absolved myself from
causing all that emotional mayhem
that a youthful spirit engages upon
not having yet acclimatized itself at all.
Was it my fault if all those
hormone-ridden relationships,
all those peers of mine
that bought only a fake copy of me,
an unedited work in progress
now look back in anger?
Now of course I am acclimatized
to my personal environment,
acclimatized and stabilized
in that cramped, now and again
state of imperfection
most of us aim for.
Nevertheless:-
caveat emptor.
Solstice
Tween season
Heated, hot, season
Between spring and autumn
Comprising northern hemisphere
Acclimatized, condition
Seasons
3/15/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Acclimatization is a serious matter.
Therefore I have almost absolved myself from
causing all that emotional mayhem
that a youthful spirit engages upon
not having yet acclimatized itself
to whom it was, or to what it would become.
Was it my fault that all those ‘soon to be’ lovers
bought a copy of me,
that was an unedited work in progress?
The maxim: “they know not what they do”
has to apply, or we would never arrive at that stage
of namely and to wit,
that stabilized imperfection most achieve.
Caveat emptor.
Solstice
tween season
heated, hot, season
between spring and autumn
comprising northern hemisphere
acclimatized, condition
Seasons
8/28/21 /2021©
Diamante Poetry for Fun- Your Choice of Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Caren Krutsinger
I have almost absolved myself
from causing that emotional mayhem
that a youthful spirit engages upon
not having yet acclimatized itself
to whom it is, or what it would become.
All those lovers and haters
bought into an early copy
an unedited work in progress.
It’s the pity of youth that we
never give each other time for regret.
Apologies may or may not arrive decades later
often they are just told to the sky.
Forgiveness is given and accepted
between distant shadows of us.
We tidy up past regrets in an old room long vacated,
until eventually we arrive
at that state of stabilized imperfection
most of us hope to achieve.
Acclimatization is a serious matter.
I mean one cannot keep bouncing around
a kaleidoscopic chameleon-like center
can one?
Therefore I have almost absolved myself from
causing all that emotional mayhem
that a youthful spirit engages upon
not having yet acclimatized itself
to whom I was, or to what I would become.
Was it my fault that all those
‘soon to be’ lovers
bought a copy of me,
an unedited work in progress?
Most who waded in the ankle-deep shallows
of those earlier days were but rough drafts,
early editions of what they eventually turn into.
The maxim: “they know not what they do”
has to apply or we would never arrive at that stage
of namely and to wit,
that stabilized imperfection most achieve.
Though I do pity the girls
who bought that knock-off copy of me,
the women who were scammed
by a none-copyright version of myself,
but to be fair,
they also were none-acclimatized
and should have saw
the dire warning: caveat emptor.
Impromptu night journey into snowy
wood
Face laced with scarf; head covered
by hood
Sturdy mare blanketed; each foot
shod with stud
A swift nod, gentle tap instinctively
understood
Gallant mare plows forward
furrowing ice and mud
Chilled air quickens my pulse;
thickens my blood
The howling wind around the
swiveling sleigh doth whirl
Into onrushing faces stinging, icy
pellets hurl
Along path's edges glistening trees
their mast's twirl
O'er head stalking raven's
patronizing wings unfurl
The chortling wind, raven screeches;
my head hairs curl
Around the bend, loomed the
cottage of stately earl
I gathered the reins the careening
sleigh to abruptly turn
Acclimatized mare already my
studied thoughts did discern
Onto the swept, manicured lane
hopeful feet did churn
Beckoning lamp on distant doorstep
did intently burn
Already alerted, spry earl awaited
our intentions to learn
On arrival, our tired petition, lowly
station did not spurn
Inspired by Robert Frost's:
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy
Evening