Best Blued Poems
At winter end
comes the time of lilac
pubescent shoots tipped light green
budding up and down each branch,
young growth stretching, flexing new muscles
ready and anxious to answer the call;
a gentle but large white sun
hangs low in the gray blued sky,
spring comes as it often does
every year around this time
softly waking earth
shaking loose the ice-cold winter drab
until all is new again
reborn to grow and blossom;
only time, weathered and season worn
anguishes to leave some mark;
this aging earth draws from creation itself
imagining its restart from memory
as humanity appears to remain
self-absorbed, hard-hearted and indulgent
until living in oblivion
returns to see taking in the time of lilacs,
natures bounty and beauty recharged.
The air chills slightly ¬
Leaves whistle in careful touch
Whilst the nights draw in ~
Blued skies mingle against greys
Autumn is calling the tune ~~~
Greenery now turns ¬
Her vibrantly yesterdays
In chameleon change ~
Richness of colours now flow
Blends of the fall so grace us ~~~
Cobalt laden skies ¬
Amidst the ebony dark
Impending storms close ~
The passing of Summer, stark
What we lose today, returns ~~~
All alone,
In this world;
Is there no one here,
for me Lord;
ls there anyone?
Who can show me love?
Sitting here in a hue?
Pictured blued;
Sadden, and broken
Hearten-departed
My bitter mouth
Speaks tarts
of...
My body maybe just one physically alone
Yet my spirit speaks to my heart
That God has got me and if He's has me then I am, I am got;
My hope is maybe there'll be just one love for me;
And my hope is maybe there will be just one love for me;
All I need is just one love
One love for me
My hope is maybe there'll be just one love for me;
Yes, I am alone,
And yet I am held;
By the arms and hand of the Great I AM,
for me Lord;
ls there anyone?
Who can show me love along with you?
Sitting here in a hue?
Pictured blued;
Sadden, and broken
Hearten-departed
My bitter mouth
Speaks tarts
of...
My body maybe just one physically alone
Yet my spirit speaks to my heart
That God has got me and if He's has me then I am, I am got;
My hope is maybe there'll be just one love for me;
And my hope is maybe there will be just one love for me;
All I need is just one love
One love for me
My hope is maybe there'll be just one love for me;
So until this meeting comes true and after too
My hope is maybe there'll be just one love for me;
11/8/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
I see that you have been in a coma for two days and I hope you can hear me,Johnson, I'm going to check your vital every two hours just to see if there ant changes,Johnson,my name is ruthie your nightly nurse, and while I'm here with you I will see to it that you are giving the best care while you here,Johnson, I will clean your wounds and chang your bandages too and when I'm finished doing those thing I will comfort you,Johnson, my name is Ruthie your nightly nurse I'm going to check your vital every two hours just to see if there is any changed,with tears in her eyes, thses are her words, I going to sit right beside you,I'm going to write your wife and kids for you Johnson,I'm going to tell your wife how much you going to miss her and how she's going to miss you,I going to tell your kids that you love them and you wish that if it God will that you can be there to watch them grow-up,I'm going to hold your hand while you are here,Johnson, my name is Ruthie your nightly nurse ,I will be the person you will hear talking with you and I will be the last person to hold your hand, and I'll kiss you for your wife and kids and I'll tell them how good a soldier you was Johnson,I'm going to tell your parent that you are a brave soldier and that you love them very much,and I will also write and tell your conrade to always keep you in there heart,and Johnson when it's my time to go who will sit beside my bed? and hold my hand? and who is going to write my husband and kids and tell them how much I'm going to miss them and who is going to kiss me one last time???Johnson, my name is Ruthie, your nightly nurse It's time to unplug you from my machine, I can't check your vital anymore, I'm going to clean you and dress you in your dress blued and pin your awards upon your chest, and call for someone to bring your body out PVT Johnson will be miss. time of death 1400hrs. stay in a coma for five days....................this is dedicatedto Pvt johnson and his family and love ones......................SSG KIRT JACK
Alltsaigh - The Scotch Highlands
I made a pact with you near water's edge:
Before the campers came,
I would remove The drawings on the hostel's kitchen walls
In which you are a few sad and patient tires
Half in some blued-out lake with dragon face,
So patently fading to public white.
You said you would never come back up
To startle us again or find disgrace…
So you said going black under blue;
I knew you would be back.
Sailing these spindrift waters
Diving the bone-deep depths and taunting us
Across the waves with your rippling spines,
And flair for bumbling melodrama.
Therefore, I have kept my watch
And evenings, a blue sword in darkness,
I look downward and slip off into the night
--Published Sketchbook
A life with you, lived in the blossoms
Showered together by rain, greener in the autumn
Close to your heart, a place with immense beauty
Where we lived together, loving being our duty.
Your look exhibits smiles, of infinite pretty flowers
Your fabrics caressing my body, sensation lasted for hours
Your fragrance rooted in my breath, seems to have immortal power
We cuddled each other endlessly, conjoining our loving minds
Love within growing stronger, our dreams met a thousand times.
A living passion that glowed, whenever our eyes met
Desirous thirst engraved within, revealed itself then i bet
Gentle touches through the bodies, hastily, its her soothing fingertips
Delectable and soulfulness, i found, the taste of your lips
A blissful glory of love, closely entangles our eyes
Lustful and intimate souls, find and bind their ties
Every tide in our bodies, when builds up the the amplitude
Every lurid desire then awakes, the amatory deeply blued.
Not just so platonic, not just is thirst my dear
Whatever the heart desires, that truly is love my peers
No dams shall ever hold, the boundless matters of the heart
No words shall ever define, it in its truest verse.
The drovers' hearts were beating fast
When our grueling drive was done.
They'd had their fill of dust and beans,
And the only thing they wanted now,
Was a long, hot bath, and some cow town fun.
They loaded up the holding pens
With bawling, longhorn beef,
Then spurred their horses into town,
To seek out recreation--
And give their lonely hearts relief.
Dark moods and headaches followed
A long and lusty night.
The cattle town was lifeless--
Billy Barnes was taut and mean,
And the Kansas sun was blazing bright.
The boys ducked into the general store
Out of the noon-day sun.
There, Billy saw his heart's desire--
Beneath the glass of the counter,
Lay a blued steel, Colt, handgun.
Against young Tom's wise counsel,
Billy laid his money down.
With the heavy Colt tucked beneath his belt,
And feeling nearly ten feet tall,
He stepped out on the streets of town.
That evening found the bosom friends
In a dimly lit saloon,
Where the cost of rot-gut whisky,
And painted good-time gals
Left them busted much too soon.
Out in the steaming, summer night,
On the cattle town's boardwalk,
Billy's mood was dark and somber--
While Tom McQueen, as usual,
Was full of fun and nonsense talk.
--continued...
Learn not too late to halt the hate,
Bound to be ground in the dust of disgust
We're pierced and fierce, fulla rings and things
We're blued and tatooed and God is booed.
Crude dudes are misconstrued
with actions vulgar,vile and lewd.
We're found down ground in sound,
totally tatooed in terrible taste,
in a mindless race for the loudest base.
Hate to dis your myth but God exists,
'Tis a truth deduced by the less obtuse,
You understand He did become man
For His love of us all because of the fall.
He suffered and died being crucified,
He pulled His people from the pains of hell
and rose from the dead He's alive and well,
I tell you no lie He's got no rival,
It's right there written in the holy Bible.
He arose to heaven so to send the Spirit
to His brothers and sisters who wished to hear it,
He said I leave you my Love I leave you my all
but you gotta say yes to heed my call.
Don't follow the world that ain't the place,
You want to be with Me when you finish this race,
Orphans you're not you have been taught,
I will help you find Me if I'm sought.
Amen
Hers, indeed, was the one missing face in his heart's gallery of intimate portraits
~ O Henry (from The Green Door)
I tend to trudge through life subdued
and view events through lenses blued
with Eeyore's gloomy attitude -
but not today
Most days I'm prone to wallow in
an expectation of chagrin,
I brace to take it on the chin -
but not today
Each day is bound to have its rains,
two losses for each of its gains,
a whole week's worth of aches and pains -
but not today
I've wandered through a dreary drought;
while going days or weeks without
a hearty laugh or joyous shout -
but not today
My odds of finding happiness?
million-to-one would be my guess
today though, clouds all acquiesce
to part, and let the sunshine bless
my years-long spate of loneliness -
I smile and struggle to repress
these joyful tears without success
as she says 'Yes!'
[Author's note - today, Nov 24th, marks the anniversary of the day my bride agreed to marry me... some have rightly questioned her judgment, but no one has ever questioned her love, for which I am eternally grateful]
The Search to Find the Edge of the Ice
They say moss doesn't gather on a stone rolling, in motion,
And even wise algae gets left in the wake,
Of a proud ship, foresail dipped, rising upon an ocean,
Yet what of the movement of cold, blued, polar ice,
Where humanity has no known device,
That can truly assess each crevasse like a human eye,
Not wafting past, digitising from way up high,
But the eye picking out subtle changes,
The sense of touch, of feeling crumbling, matters much,
And no satellite can be quite right as the human nose,
Smelling fauna, or the stench of rotting, dead plants or fish,
For ice recedes its movement gathers stones,
But it reveals things, that satellites alone,
Can never bring to assess, without assumption in that process,
And so a legend of arctic exploration abandons long treks,
Or climbing mountains, and not due to getting older,
Indeed using boats for a landlubber is getting bolder,
Taking stock of the after shock,
The Northwest passage laid out, like a virgin on a wedding night,
Internally sobbing for the state our world is in,
For there was no ice, not even enough for a consoling gin,
The long march of humanity's future discontent,
Requires assessment, a global response to a new war cry,
Come Europe, Come China, Come India, Come America,
Come hear the cry of the Canadian northwest,
Of the fears of Greenland becoming a new forest,
Come Australasia, Russia too, come all countries, much to do,
For we must rise to assess the circumstance of the ice regress,
To prevent surprise, loss of our world's bequest,
And pushing forward the advance guard of this new challenge,
Is Sir David's team, the polar ocean phalanx,
Not sat around at home in comfy armchairs,
But doing something, going somewhere, to show we care,
Seeking to find and monitor and report back,
Crucial knowledge that currently we lack,
For how can we plan to avoid our worlds future sorrows,
If we do not make an effort to find out for our tomorrow,
Where exactly is the edge of the ice, which today no device,
Can show in a way that all of human kind can know,
Does the ice recede or simply ebb and flow,
Stand up, man up, pay up, support them,
Lets see them depart and sail,
To find this century’s holy grail,
The search to find ‘The Edge of the Ice’.
@Andrew Carnegie, Challenged in Wiltshire, Jan 12th 2017.
A few snowflakes signal the winter
With it comes the deadly cold wind
Keep warm by the fire, not to shiver
Only hearing the music of the wind.
The mind will get covered by depression
As the land covered by avalanche in snow
Winter comes not singly but in battalion
Using all the blues there’re that it knows.
Blue for water, ice, clear or cloudy sky
Health, diseases, obese, other such woes
If a single, or divorced or the spouse awry
It’s blue winter making one blued if so.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Date: 12-10-13
Seventh Place Win
Contest: Winter Blues
For My Holly
I never knew myself until you came into view.
'new girl' was my name ~ yours was the same
We mirrored each other's army brat depths.
we had unique views ~ we sought hidden clues
You left the ground with me so we might better see.
We pushed against boundaries blocking our free.
After a year and graduation day, both families moved away.
A year apart then we cheered for you were moving near.
Silence crashed gray around me in jarring strikes.
news glued me undone ~ chilled shade blued my sun
Mere seconds flogged me numb with scarring spikes.
your mind failed its start ~ I bore a shelled heart
We two had overturned set stones to deep-learn.
We partnered our uniqueness to bloom our yearn.
I rushed to your bedside …
Blocking mental ills, pills trapped you within.
I wore my softness ~ you trip-talked nonsense
Your eyes would never more answer your grin.
we used to free dance ~ your sweet eyes loved chance
Your soul art was partly shaped into my adult themes.
Our wings had barely spread from our teen dreams.
We promised to lifelong gentle the other’s twin stream.
I never knew myself until you came into view.
I rushed to your bedside … where my heart first slow died
VALENTINES DAY IN AUSSIE BUSH
Awakening with a romantic itch,
Then a scratch where I had burst a stitch,
looking at my beaut shagger named sheila,
as a randy ram, try to hug her,
tis Valentines Day in Whattabugga.
Love is in the bush out west,
all that walks, crawls, or calls do their best.
Upon this farm there is no calm,
for all feel that Valentine charm.
Kebabra of sheep
could be heard all night without any sleep.
Calling all crow, this rooster is on show.
That goat, oh damn!, is horny for porky ham,
and Freckie the Frill neck, tries to Goanna,
while the Kookaburra laughs in a speckled bandanna.
My best mate arrives, called Whatafella,
only blued eyed dog in Whattabugga,
with bottle brush from down da riva,
a prezzie for my missus, I try'n' giv ha,
still with wild bees,
to try 'n' please,
smiling "Darls have ne recipes for these.
Love is in the Aussie bush out west,
All that walks, crawls, or calls do their best.
Jude's
no prude, but
photo'd nude whilst
viewed by
some crude
multi-hued
tattooed
dude
who'd then
distributed
his lewd pics of her,
her mood
'blued.'
Brood she
did. Glued to home
she stewed,
eschewed
food
and rued that
he'd construed for joy
to elude her.
Her ire accrued and,
imbued with fire,
she clued him in
as she sued him: "You
had to intrude!
You too'd
exude rage
if I'd brewed this
and a feud
ensued."
Then with a rude
allude
to the brood his
not so shrewd
mother'd 'zoo'd,' she
'shoe'd' him
where he poo'd.
Chances are
You are beautiful
No need for second glances
You are
Your caramel skin
Your moon glow ivory grin
Mellow brown eyes
Your strong barren thighs
Those perfectly geo-metric breasts
Plum ruby-tan brown lips
God made all of this
Chances are
You are beautiful
No need for second glances
You are
God made you whole
Beautiful black woman
Your intelligent
Your nurturing gifts
sometimes Mother and Father
So much wisdom
Courageous choice
Such a lovely voice
I love the more of you
You are bronze, tan, brown, blacken and blued
Wonderful you
Chances are
You are beautiful
No need for second glances
You are
God made you whole
Beautiful black woman
and I thank God for making you
Beautiful black woman
and I thank God for making you
5/12/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.
Copyright © 2018
From anthology “God Made all Woman Beautiful” 2018©