Today I will smash the old computer and count the air between us,
I will burn the books for warmth, letting the ashes paint my glasses with memories,
and I will uproot the withered plant, sowing its seeds in the plastic flower,
a monument of memory without growth, an altar of silent stagnation.
I will walk the crowded road, speaking only to silence,
without exchanging a word with passing faces,
for the rules are heavy, and my silence, an unmovable mountain,
under the midday sun, I will seek my lost shadow,
trying to measure my height in absence, a phantom of light.
I will armor the poor, placing them in a ring,
rejoicing in the bloodied glory, a bath of triumph without splendor,
and I will be acutely lucid, proud of my diverted mind,
a mind that dances on the edge of reality, laughing at conventions.
In this lost horizon of thought, I find my balance,
in a world where absence becomes presence, and silence, a song without sound,
for in every absurd gesture, a new understanding is born,
and in every silent step, a world opens, full of magic and melancholy.
Breakfast bells ring
In my stomach and
I go downstairs in the
Room where deliciousness
Resides with care and love—
Kitchen,
I stumble slowly
Sinking the moment all in
I take every step
Tap
Tap
Tap
I'm downstairs
My fingers wrapping
Affectionately around
My coffee mug
Which is also my mate,
Coffee, I pour from the french press,
And it goes like a spiral
Down in the mug as a whirlwind.
And then it goes gently down my throat
When I kiss my mellow mug mindfully.
Then my toast jumps out of the toaster
Like an acrobat,
Acutely lays on the placid plate
Waiting for me to reward it
With strawberries, cherries,
Or balmy butter or merry mulberries,
Or sometimes just like Winnie
I eat it with humble honey.
Afterwards, the backyard awaits me,
I amble amply,
Scatter some bread for my buddies—
Birds and squirrels,
While the wind greets me,
And they all gather round
When I read my poems,
Keeping them spellbound.
Life doesn’t feel the same, My Darling,
Deprived of your passionate love,
Each and every day aimlessly drags on,
Each and every day feels dreary and treacherous!
Days were joyfully enchanting, nights were supremely blissful,
Never realized parting was so acutely hard!
But came a time there was turbulence in
The relationship, a dark cloud covered our horizon!
My heart sank, tears uncontrollably filled my eyes,
But decision, right for both of us, needed to be taken,
although my heart shattered like a broken-winged bird's,
I stood still - not letting grief drown me miserably!
Deprived of your love - is that fully true!
Pure Love is a gift we rarely receive in a lifetime,
We still love each other…I believe, Love does not end,
Cruel fate decides the eventual direction of our path!
Passing of the New Year
We could have had champagne and not Buck’s fizz, but then we aren’t in showbiz. We glorify and harness God’s creation in full spirit, praising his glory. The passing of the year, nothing to fear, his goodwill to mankind, it is without deploration, acutely aware of the labour ahead-January blues, that first Monday does lamentedly lurk, far from jovial or jaunty as work is around the cruel corner. Unadorned is now the room but the fire still ablaze where the cat does lethargically laze. Snow did disrupt December endeavour and to avoid the roads, we’d be more than clever-force winds doesn’t hinder the odd ocean swimmer-madness to those who take hot wine from the beach’s cafe with views of breaking waves which battle the surfers. Many a woman is all too aware that more mincemeat won’t make a tactical nighttime dancer trimmer. A fanciful occasion for many albeit far from a duchess, but prone to impress to celebrate the New Year is without much persuasion.
Each day we wake up with grace
We know not how the day will end
We walk by death time and time again
Unaware of our feet in quick sand
Some of us slowly sink in
Unaware we don’t fret or worry
Some of us are acutely conscious
That we sink and move in various ways
Perhaps quickening deaths grip
Perhaps not if one believes in destiny
We have various choices challenges that
Grab our focus and like hocus Pocus
Our death dance is transformed
Do you waltz beautifully to the music
Do you sing along and try to diffuse it’s sting
Do you embrace and trace your steps
As the death rattle settles in your chest
And fastens like a lead violet vest
Embracing the best and lovingly dressed life dreams
Bubbling upon the quicksand like a silver sonnet
How do we know enough about it to fear
What if the other side is more clear and honest
We all sink in quicksands of life and perhaps
It is the only worthy way to have lived
So put on your best dancing shoes
Lace them up with love
And strut your stuff
May we all be thankful and acutely aware
For two of life’s mathematic mysteries that take place when we share.
This first is a basic fact…which cannot be denied:
how happiness, when shared, is quickly multiplied
The second is a mystery that often catches us unprepared
how the weight of sorrow gets divided the moment it is shared
clunky chunky unfamiliar words
not easily understood due to their tweets and pops
shoving themselves against my dendrite highway
hidden yet acutely felt
dancing the brain Watusi
I wonder if I will ever write again
Unlikely noisy and vibrant mornings
everything was serene, celestial and calm,
so ideal for a spring's afternoon psalm...
when there should have been mourning sounds!
Sunrise had more brilliance as it illuminated all with grace,
it gave no comfort to souls in graves devastated by a cyclone;
they had no fresh flowers to embellish each ravaged stone,
even moonlight couldn't brighten their dullness and disgrace!
The next day the pelting rain fell to break their monotony,
apple blossoms carried by a sudden western wind adorned
the crumbling tombstones left unkept in drenched ground;
the only visitor was a Greyhound grieving his loss acutely!
Unlikely noisy and vibrant mornings,
utter peace was broken by a blaring and radiating lightening,
and as stormy clouds spread across
the atmosphere, Heaven began to weep with human feeling!
it’s not desire per say but the clinging ~
that stifles soul and stops heart from singing
enlivening silence sets our soul free ~
vibrant in the now, joyful and carefree”
Nobody wants to feel truth anymore.
They cry out loudly for “comic relief”
Closing their eyes with a stubborn ignore
to block any sight of sadness and grief.
More pleasing to speak on beautiful things,
stars, skies and flowers, descriptive details.
A river’s fluid dance that softly sings,
floating on a dream, with wind driven sails
How sadly tragic we all cannot be
blessed with eyesight of a rose-colored tint
and that joy is dispersed with inequity.
For a beggar’s life is not Heaven sent
May all caring ears be acutely tuned
to those human songs that hum in the gloom.
1/22/2024
J ust. Applied; personal postivity acutely
A s grounded in effort to help humanity
P lacing poseys to alleviate humour
P rosecuting actual effort helpfully
A man among many, hurtful anomalies.'
Her voice, so exquisitely beautiful, leaves everything else on Earth astounded,
It rendered my body motionless, yet my mind remained acutely focused on her radiant countenance.
Her melodious touch stirred my emotions, transforming my pain into sheer joy.
??????????????
BY TURYAGUMANAWE MATHIAS
I count the ceiling tiles once more
Hear the footsteps in the floor
Can feel the drip inside my arm
The liquid magic gives me calm
Pupils dilate as heart pumps blood
Round my body to cause a flood
Of opiate to kill the pain
And numb the sensors in my brain.
But still I am acutely woke
To every little prod and poke
A sense of being out of now
A shift in time and space somehow.
Being so far out of sense
Control is long gone, jumped the fence
Alters you forevermore
Near dying causes change for sure.
The pain, anxiety, constant fear
I could not see an exit clear
For me to pass away one night
So I had to stay and fight.
Fight for my very life itself
The one thing that you can’t buy is health
I had within me power to survive
I dug deep, found it, had to thrive
For my children, young and tender
To my illness could not surrender
And now it’s in the distant past
But trauma lingers to the last.
Joyful
The time of spring
The season comes widely
Beautifies all through the nature
Seen-unseen everything is beautiful
Peaceful love acutely lives fair
Glowing buds, green lively
Dressed everything
Joyful
- January 22, 2023
Pen a Rictameter, Hopes of springs return Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: M. L. Kiser
Falling into a shaft during an evil strike.
Aspiring to scream, you lose your voice.
when darkness and abhorrence spike.
When adverse facts sway your choice,
Aspiring to scream, you lose your voice.
A halt to all hopes for life and renewal
When adverse facts sway your choice
As you fight acutely but your shot is futile.
A halt to all hopes for life and renewal
There is no pledge to attempt to survive.
As you fight acutely, but your shot is futile.
And you will be the first to escape alive.
There is no pledge to attempt to survive.
You bear it shut your eyes, set for death.
And you will be the first to escape, alive.
A swift jolt hauls you to rivers of Lethe.
You bear it shut your eyes, set for death.
When darkness and abhorrence spike.
A swift jolt hauls you to rivers of Lethe.
Falling into a shaft during an evil strike.
Written: November 10, 2022
I was just a passerby, a Prince Charming
trying to be a gentleman while helping
a Damsel in Distress wasn't trying to be a hero
yet my heart lead me to be with her
A site revealed in her life
I acknowledge continually through her strife
And aloft that I mention had no intention from my heart
To be lead to this spot to be entangled, but the hero is and yet smart
Any chivalry destiny then within my mind
I Fallen acutely aware of her situation
So involved I volunteered some time non-dangerous I felt compelled
So to try to stay near to help her out, I was faithful, not a doubt
Her seriousness and her actions are more of needs than a want
I, for the time, embraced some of her shortcomings and some of those needs and wants
For all that I tried to do in my heart wanted more than to try on her shoe(s)i was just a Passer by a hero who in help a damsel in distress while fighting some of her villains
Got all caught up a hero just helping who got caught up and fell fallen in love
5/16/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2022©
Related Poems