Nightmare
When you have a nightmare, it is good not to be alone
She came into my room with a pillow tucked under
her area arm; wanted to sleep with me, OK.
She switched on the light and saw how untidy it was
She began arranging my clothes, making sure
I was full awake, I thought of having a drink, the brew
My mother had warned me about
The woman had been drinking, though, and was in
a frisky mood; this was a part that my mother told me about
She made sure I had a restless night
But I never told my mother about that
In the eyes of the beholder
Grandmother was a beauty in her way
Dark brown skin like a Hershey bar
Salt n pepper black hair wisped by wind
As she snaps green peas in a bowl
The sunflowers she planted so romantic
Casting seeds like red roses in the breeze
Feeding the birds in belly and our eyes
Like bowling balls knocking down such sights
Her bare feet ashy knock knees calloused
From praying the most selfless prayers
She dips snuff and spits in an old Pepsi can
Unashamed of her poverty and southern accent
It’s the admiration in my eyes,
It’s your beauty that ignites that look.
For a moment, I pause
Not as though I’ve seen a ghost,
But caught in the thought
Of how lucky a man I am.
I’m simply someone amazed
Every time I look at her, it feels like the first.
That look, like I’ve been starved of light,
Unaware of it myself,
Yet she always notices.
Maybe it’s not just how I look at her,
But how we look at each other.
There’s fire in our eyes,
Sparks when they meet,
A quiet war between desire and tenderness.
You may wonder what it is that I see,
Beauty beyond measure?
Perhaps.
But more than that,
I see a reflection of love looking back at me,
And in her eyes, I understand
Why the beholder never looks away.
(“Eye of the Beholder” detail, 2020, original encaustic)
They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder
But then again, so is everything else.
(11/19/25)
You tell me many times…
I am beautiful!
Your words take me to cloud nine,
In exhilaration, I sail, I float, I glide!
Do I believe you, or not?
Because beauty lies in the
Eyes of the beholder!
The world may not agree with you,
But you are firm in your belief.
My parents thought that
Their girl was the prettiest,
My kindest friends considered me gorgeous!
But I knew in my heart,
Beauty lies within,
In kindness, in love, in grace.
In courage, in bravery, in dedication!
Beauty lies in a mother’s boundless love for her baby,
A father’s unlimited affection for his children,
Beauty lies in a teacher’s care for her students,
Beauty lies in admiring and portraying bountiful nature.
Faith in our saviour,
Our prayers, full of devotion,
Every little child is magically blessed
Every little child is heavenly angelic!
Something old, and ancient
something abandoned, and rusty,
All are priceless when we value the sentiments attached to the object.
If beauty is but skin deep,
I prevailed upon her to construe,
'Does it lie in the eye of the beholder
or, of the two which one is true?'
For we can't judge the book
by the cover, with but one look,
as what's inside truly counts
far much more than that.
And tho' to me she bemoaned,
'I am big-boned'
I've yet to see a skeleton which looks fat.
As he rested upon my delicate but strong shoulder.
I realized beauty is truly in eyes of the beholder.
I also realized for him I am willing to be bolder.
"Good deeds are more important than good looks."
The proverb was first recorded by Chaucer in 'The Wife of Bath's Tale' (c. 1387)
You saw the beauty past her scars.
You looked inside her fragile soul.
You cared not for the angry wars.
You sought the good the battles stole.
You sang with angels through the stars.
You set compassion as your goal.
You took care when you consoled her.
Beautiful is the beholder.
Staring through,
Eyes so new.
Forgive me,
For judging you.
We've been trained to,
Single out the few,
who dont fit the view.
Picking them apart,
Like the vultures do.
--------------
Growing more each day,
Seeing the error of my way.
I start thinking,
About what to say.
How words play,
such important roles,
Touching souls,
So deep,
They weep.
--------------
As we grow older,
The surface grows colder.
Often giving someone,
The cold shoulder.
Words from the past,
They smolder.
Creating a boulder,
Robbing our opportunity,
blocking life's beauty.
Hiding the truth of love,
From The Eyes Of The Beholder
I saw outside
All the beauty
Light of my eyes.
I appear ugly when alone
I look normal in company
Self-loathing needs no embrace
Rather than scoring myself
I'm ugly prettiness wronged
I’m shocked by my beauty
Again and again, till I'm cuts
When each slice is mystery
The clue to beauty's murder
Is finding how lovely I was
If everyone is like me then
Who then is ugly like me?
When you leave, I'm homely
The less fortunate comforting
There, self-hatred finds a home
Even if it's a tent by the road
Diaspora from self, preservation
Society casts normalcy
However, I seem to look
Self-loathing is inherited
Plastic surgeons can't erase plain
If disfigured, burn your image
Better defeat than surrender
Victory is my futility
Cry out to your mothers
Who still loves you mangled
Before crimes against your face
Ugly is the eyes of the beholder
Those pretty eyes looking in
Defille your ugliness for good
We remake pristine history
In our honest image
I have taken pictures
Of a perfect summer's day;
Flowers, alive and new, in spring;
An elephant, majestic and proud, staring at me.
I have witnessed
A robin standing curiously in the fresh snow;
A blackbird feeding her young;
The dew on the grass on a crisp autumn morning;
Dogs running wildly and happily in a field.
But none have been more beautiful
Than you and the smile that graces your lips.
I have seen all the wonder this earth has to offer
From far and wide,
But nothing is more perfect than home:
And my home is with you.
FOR EYE AM THE EyE OF THE BEHOLDER-
Who am I to mumble?
Righteously so I should be humble
For I am the eye of the beholder
To seek, to plead grace, to see your face amongst your people
When I look at me, it’s honestly not me I see
For when you see me, I am defying eye see not me
Lord I seek grace with you, my entire fate is in you
I just learnt what to do, so I plead to seek your grace
That I may see your face
Mine faith is the substance hope for
Evidence of the things not seen
For I cry, for I cry out to Him
I smile for my burden, already won, My Father God Elohim
Did win,
Night time, new day dawn and noon I cry out
In distress and He My Father heard my distress
My Father God Elohim, Did win,
Night time, new day dawn and noon I cry out
In distress and He My Father heard my distress
Lord I seek grace with you
My entire fate is in you, I just learnt what to do
So I plead to seek your grace
That I may see your face
For eye am the eye of the beholder
8/16/2024
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
Beauty more than ever
Will run its fickle course
It never lasts forever
But may leave a pretty corpse
Lure of mirage
in deranged dunes,
dances in
dandelion rhythm
with oasis dream,
illusion inscribed
in sane sands of time,
sliding continuum
with desiccated travail,
thirst unquenched,
stimulus perpetual.
Dormant despair
usurps harps of hope,
vibrato dissipates
unperceived,
wisdom shroud
unfurls crafty chimera
in life of actuality,
awareness imbibed.
Stifling shadow
of ebony anguish cloud
creeps remorseless,
dissension darkness drips
opaque desolateness
on listless landscape,
mangled in
strife maelstrom,
mind sucked within
hope vortex,
umbrage unushered.
Silver spectrum
of lines transient
in acumen cloud,
splits into colors
of radiant reverie
in optimistic prism.
Convoluted canvas,
carapace conjured
for contorted hideous faces,
turning in a trance
into baroque frescos,
flicker of beauty
sparkles sneaky
in conceived smile.
…beholder, the painter.
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