Best Bone Marrow Poems
Spiritual injection,
soul to the bone marrow gene therapy
Regeneration revived me,
when grace was bestowed abundantly
Dipped my soul in the water,
emerged with a spark of godly desire
I wanted to be holy ...
be elevated higher
I felt the fire
as it began to burn within
The flames of purification
burned away all my sins
And the fire kept burning within
Melted away my stony heart,
reshaped it into a new spiritual organ
More generous,
more compassionate
More empathy,
more circumspect
What now burns within,
grows more intense everyday
My old desires all burning away
Embers of the past cremated into ash;
buried under the tree,
next to the leaves of all my ill-gotten cash
Resurrected bones born in the fire ---
I walk by faith on the water of troubles,
every blessing from above now doubled
What burns within ...
is a gift from the Everlasting Almighty
What burns within ...
birthed a new spirit that guides me rightly
What burns within ...
cleared away all my doubt and pain
What burns within ...
fallowed my soul to be born again
I come from the twilight
Of dusk to dawn
Yet I can't stand
All around me downtown
All in up and around
Signs saying of "Whites Only"
Mustn't go into that café or restaurant
Funny, thing tho!
My soft money green, my hard money silver just like yours
With all this and all that
I am so glad so glad that
God ain't no respect of persons.. . .
GOD NO COLORED GOD
My blood bleeds red, we all have bone marrow tissue
Blood flowing through our veins
If I were hungry and stolen some bread would you prosecute me
Yeah I stole because I was hungry
You won't give me a job yet if I had yours I be making $1.64 cents an hour
No need to feel sorry for me
I didn't make myself I am brown, blue, black, charcoal gray
You still react no more signs labeled "Whites Only"
Now they're posted permanently in your minds
Different land masses hills, valleys, blue grasses
GOD NO COLORED GOD
The white supremacist, KKK, skinheads only the bad Muslims not the good
Anyone who believes in race/color separations
We're all brothers (God Is no color GOD)
We're all brothers not about the skin its about the soul;
We're all brothers not about what's outside but what's within
We're all brothers
God a No Color God
He's spiritual not natural
We're all brothers all colors NO colored God
God is a no Color God
God not a colored God He breathe His spirit into modern clay now we're in
dependent voices with free wills
Choices all knees will bow "White only-Colored Here"
The good the bad ravished happy sad black brown blue purple orange hues Red white you choose cause
GOD NO COLORED GOD
06/21/14
written by James Edward Lee Sr.© 2014
A beggar has got bread from a door
The thread of survival
A slice of sky smiling on a pink petal
And for me
In the void, appears a boundless sea
And the bard is impatient
Till the buzz from his word-paint
Versifies the lyrically human moment
Poetry is fomented by arousal and associations
A graceful process of
Deconstruction and reconstruction
Of the dancing shadows
A concentrated illumination
Of your reality
With my lamps of desire and imagination
Wearing a shirt of rustling dry leaves
There stands
A story of weeping wounds
Shards of tears and trauma
In my nostril a human aroma
Shaping out fond filigree of emotion
Warm and cold
Stroke in the folds
And when you look intense
Craving the chocolate words of my pen
Provoking a tomato like glow
In my bone marrow
Instantly arrives the bird
And stirred is the light in the gem
A sure poem
Like the meandering river
In the falling leaves
In the painting brush of the sun and cloud
Silent as well as loud
Sit the metaphors
Waiting merrily to be caressed in a poem
Or else
To what end are they born?
Guitar of golden corn
And when an irresistible leaf
From your trembling window
Falls on my thirsty grass
Alphabets sparkle and spontaneously combine
In valentine
Boats from the river sail in
Into the passionate hemoglobin
Life is always ready
With stupendous recipes
For our poetry
Provided the quick chemistry is there
In profound red and sky blue
Between me and you
A crimson brew
____________________________________
21/01/2017
Daddy's specter plectrums mercilessly
Fraying my nerves raw
with oxidized guitar strings.
my thoughts relentlessly hemorrhage
onto clay vinyl grooves
s p i n n i n g
endless nights
of
suffocation.
a midnight jazz wail
lacerates
the void of your absence.
notes gnaw through bone marrow
ravenous maggots
in the corpse
of our love.
Chords violently crash
splintering my fractured vertebrae
a car wreck
in slow motion.
plucking
the frayed synapses
of my misfiring
modal limbic brain.
feel the searing electric distortion
static fuzz of madness
surge through
morrow's marrow
my moanin'
a primal scream
at the Eve of Destruction
trapped in a skipping groove
of creation
shattering guitars
and blasting kneecaps
in an empty cathedral
of resounding sound
Our touch
a violent crescendo
of needles and poisoned honey
pain swollen sweet
as a mother's milk
laced with a junkie's fix
on a stillborn birthday morn
each note
a razor-sharp reflection
etched in stretch-marked
scar tissue
of the agony that throbs
within this moog menagerie
of fractured femininity
set
Between the sets
of our shattered chords
a single note lingers- soft
almost tender-
like a child's last breath
before the
final
f i n a l e
Silence crawls
a venomous asp
a deafening absence
louder than stacked amps
of patriarchy
reverberating in the hollow spaces
between drumming heartbeats
where your persecuting promises
used to nest and breed
I am the discarded B-side
of the one-hit wonder
rising from dumpster-filled
lungs of domesticity
reborn
in the Electric Avenue
of my own making
singing
Billie's bruises
Muddy's floods and
Johnson's hellhounds
to the ghosts
of futures stillborn
in this Rhapsody
of beautiful
destruction
Moon-faced and sickle-smiled
I conduct this orchestrated
Savage band of ruin
my voiceless voice
a lightning rod
splitting the sky
of expectations
as I agonizingly birth myself anew
in the RCA Victor Rhapsody of Blue
of Beautiful
reconstruction
P e r h a p s…
a new refrain
I can only write on the computer.
And I suppose that that’s not really the right thing to say, because people are going to say that I really am part of the next generation who survives solely by technology.
I really do try to write on paper, but I can only use pen because pencil smudges too easily and the end gets so dull,
So when people say that they can’t send me a link to one of their favorite poems because it’s on paper, my respect for them goes up by about sixty percent.
The part of writing on paper that scares me the most,
the part of speaking in real life that scares me the most
is that I can’t delete words.
On Microsoft Word, I can go back and add words into the middle of my poem, I can look at it as a whole and as a half and everywhere in between,
I can delete half of it and forget about, and that half will be lost forever.
But the way my fingers sometimes stick to the keyboard reminds me, I think, that the words that I’ve deleted stick with me forever, no matter how lost they are.
They’re not in some vast, infinite vacuum of the internet-
but stuck to my fingers because that was the only physical presence of those words at the time they were given life.
(Baby ducks follow the first moving thing they see when they hatch,)
And it’s some weird, modern folk tale, how the words got life, and how the words died.
So maybe if I’m the only one who can’t write on paper, then this word carrying curse is the punishment?
It’s a special flaw that makes the protagonist unique but relatable, (along with making her not able to spell anything and not able to talk to people)
And if poetry is just rambling and writing is ranting, then what are words.
The cancerous cells in a slice of bone marrow?
More likely some hellish creature that comes out of everyone only at two in the morning,
or the sticky stuff that I feel sometimes on my keyboard (or is it my fingers?)
Because my sticky fingers are a word’s physical form,
and if you think about it, you really can’t ever touch a word. They’re either soundwaves or dried ink on a dead tree, or pixels on a screen.
(or on your fingertips or your tongue.)
And I carry them with me everywhere, on my tongue and on my sticky fingers.
"HUMAN"
WE are stardust
CHNOPS
6 essential
building blocks
Carbon
Hydrogen
Nitrogen
Oxygen
Phosphorus
Sulphur
somewhere Cobalt and Gold
On the stockmarket
we could be worth
$46 million each and sold
for what our body contains
Bone Marrow
Heart
Lungs
Kidneys
Brain
Eyes
and
DNA...
and then some
literature relays;
53% water, salt tears
oceans’ memory
ancient and old
4.5 billion years
with an error range
of 50 million years
or so, we’re told -
Chemical elements
different atom types
created during a
Supernova explosion
a brilliant point of light
the death of a star
that has reached the
end of it’s life
the DEATH of a star
created from a point
of LIGHT
distributes and
gives BIRTH to life.
A Supernova burns
only for a short period
of time
life and death
death and life
Electric particles
Souls of Light
from a Universal womb
rushing through
a molecular wormhole
to commence all
over again
in another body
of solid matter
covering
electric particles -
bodies that are shells
containing beings of light
life and death
death and life
ashes to ashes
dust to Stardust
We are human
LIGHT IS LIFE
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
Reproduction without sex
Eggs and sperm
taken out of the bone marrow
Reproduction or virgin birth
Is it magic or biology
Is this the world we want to live in
26.03.2013
A-L Andresen :)
DON'T WORRY, BE HAPPY
The euphoria of sorrow gathered momentum;
Anticipating the arrival of the streamlines,
No holds barred for imminent tears
Turning a happy face to a nightmare
An iconic ace control of its beat;
Pounding hard to beat the hit
Leaving medulla to works at its peak
Comporting the body from losing its ease
The agony of sorrow may weaken the ego;
Even nerves could only manage to control,
When the brain is restive and all alone
For inability to calm the body to compose
The dept of love comfort the mind of sorrow;
Making mankind give and not borrow
Even when there is no hope tomorrow
Loving thy neighbour dearly to bone marrow;
As nights grow long on Lac la Biche,
the lake it freezes, the snow it falls
and the wind she always blows.
Wolves howl through long cold dark,
and prowl neath Aurora's flicker,
yet fearsome more than
winter and wolves
there comes a man,
no longer man,
they call the
Wendigo.
The waning moon rose over
a frigid land and I feared
I’d met my end.
The handful of hares
which fell to my snares
filled stomach but wasted flesh.
As strength and wit grew dim,
by hunger driven mad,
I longed for sweet bone marrow.
Late that night as the fire grew low
a shuffling tread drew nigh
the air was dank with beastly rank
and split by ghostly cry.
I rolled right to miss the blow
and grabbed my axe to counter.
Time stood still, I felt a chill
as iron vanquished bone.
All that morn, I gathered bush
to make the funeral pyre
at stroke of noon, I struck the flint
to cleanse the beast by fire.
Orange flames leapt high
and black smoke higher
till only ash remained
but there amidst the cinders
lay a roasted marrow bone.
In the silver moon of the Boreal night
beware one who walks alone.
Stay in your cabin with fire ablaze
and venture out not till dawn.
10/27/2016
She was tidying up the food store,
then soon a mouse appeared on a shelf.
"What a cuuuute lil thing....." she whispered.
So touched by it's white fur and pink nose,
that she called her husband from the sitting room.
He came, he saw, and searched for a baseball bat.
"I'm killing this pest!" he shouted, as he raised the bat.
His wife stood right in front of the mouse.
"If you gonna kill this cute, lil thing, you gonna pass
through me first!" she quipped.
Her husband was surprised to the core of his bone marrow,
that he sat on a stool close to him. He cupped his palms
on the bat, and lay his head on top of them.
"What are you thinking, Sweetheart?" she asked.
He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time,
and shook his head with dismay written all over his face.
"You love that mouse, don't cha?"
Her face became red with rage.
"Ok, so you want to kill this cutie because you're jealous?!
Ha! This is unbelievable! How can you believe I love it more than
I do love you??!!"
Her husband's face had slowly turned from dismay to utter
amazement.
Noticing the look on his face, she became angrier.
"Aha! Now you are chuckling in your heart because you don't
care at all!! You are still planning how you'll kill this innocent
creature, isnt it?!?!?"
"Honey, that's a rodent, ok?"
"Now you think I don't know what a rosent is?!?! I had an A
in Biology and had a scholarship to......never mind!!
Her husband bursted out laughing.
She had a blank look on her face.
"Sweetie, let's make it a pet....."
"Why didn't you say so before!!" she screamed, as she hugged
him, while seated on the stool.
"What name will we call it?" he asked.
"Hmmmmmm....... "Tommy!"
"Wha...what?! Your ex's name?! You're not serious!!
He treated you like a douche bag, and you still call out his name?!
She was enraged once again.
"One, it's just a name. Two, I'm not a douche bag!!"
For hours they argued from one point to the other,
as the mouse helped itself out with some dried corn....
I am dreaming the past
Past when KBC was the only station
Each morning started with the anthem of the nation
We had to know your intention
Before saying anything through the station
Each anchor had a level of education
While talent was just an addition
Any deviation
Captured the important attention
Of the head of the nation
Dreaming my past
Is all I want to do last
Streams of dreams I rather forget fast
Like dreams from my father
That choices have consequences
A grammatical sentence that became our sentence
Is every correctly stated statement correct?
This kind that litters my mind
Making me bitter
Tearing my heart into litres of tears
These dreams make me shy
Shy to try mention my name
My name that brings me shame
Shame I cant tame
Cant tame because my mind is lame
Tell me why my kind cant cry
When all I dream are tongues of fire
From gangs on hire
With orders from higher
Higher rot that burns like fire.
Dreaming that I cant have money in my pocket
Without getting something in their jacket
Vampires so scary
Scattered in my neighborhood
Thirsty for the last drop of my blood
Limiting my limitless potential
Potential so essential
For resource mobilization
With equal allocation not hurting expectation
For relocation before suffocation.
Dreams to revitalize my generation
A possible solution for this situation
In transformation of my nation
To grow without corruption
That is like sugar
Sweeter it becomes
And disaster it welcomes
But I dare dreams
Of peaceful elections
An end to preventable infections
Through certified injections
And an education without leakage
As a privilege
For everyone in my village
Laying my head on the pillow
Feels like my heart becomes hollow
From the beams of dreams that follow
Makes me want to jump from the window
And fall on the ground so low
Flickering pain into my bone marrow
Afraid it could happen again on the morrow
What do you see in your dreams?
Streams of dreams that my head cant keep
Make me wish for beams of dreams to turn the leaf
Of people who have a resolve and a belief
That we are better together
And we need each other
Without a bother
Of clannism
Of tribalism
Of racism
But a nation of inclusion
By implementation of all legislation
In word and spirit
Envisioned in our constitution
That beams our dream.
For Jennifer ( can't believe it's a year already)
Elegance and beauty, a caring heart and zest for life,
a loving mum and nanna, and of course, a perfect wife;
a very special sister, a treasured aunt and friend.
We recognised your need to rest as your days came to an end.
We shared with you such precious times, those memories will stay,
all we have to do is look, and you’ll not be far away.
Your radiance will start our day by way of dawn’s first light,
pushing back the sadness, replacing black of night.
We’ll see you in the morning dew that coats each waking leaf,
as you take away and purify all our tears of grief.
We’ll see you in the birth of spring, in blossom pink and white.
You’ll be the feisty wind that helps a child to fly his kite.
You’ll blow a little harder, to make him laugh and run,
then we’ll smile and say “she hasn’t lost her sense of fun”
You’ll cleanse us with your gentle rains to wash away our fears,
with the summer sun, you’ll warm our hearts and dry our tears.
The vibrant colours of your soul will be the woodland flowers,
you’ll be the fairy sugar plums that help us count the hours.
As autumn falls your hair will be the soft hue of the leaves,
we’ll hear your words of love as autumn breezes brush the trees.
As the depth of winter chills our fingers and our noses ,
we’ll see your fair complexion in the bloom of Christmas roses.
We’ll see you in the faces of your children as they smile,
we’ll hear you in the laughter of Chloe, Amber, Joe and Kyle;
in the lapping of the ocean waves upon the golden sand,
remembering the times you walked with Bernard, hand in hand.
We’ll see you when the evening brings the darkened skies,
each tiny diamond star lit by the sparkle of your eyes.
The soft and silver moonlight will be your gentle touch
to caress the weary faces of those you love so much.
You’ll breathe a silent lullaby that helps us all to sleep,
and as we drift into our dreams, thoughts of you are ours to keep.
*** 2 days before she died, following an unsuccessful bone marrow transplant, my beautiful
aunt asked me if I would write a poem and read it at her funeral. How could I refuse?? It
was an honour, but also one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. One year on, I miss
her so much and think of her daily.
I remember yesterday,
You became human through breakfast and poem
As if desired to be a transfused memory
Next to where I discarded you,
Unnoticed, a incomplete short story,
Some lack of narrative.
I remember the nurse,
White coat without credentials,
Red hair shampooed in stale cigarette smoke,
Clutching the clipboard of your entire heritage,
Found deliverance in the small print,
Words specify to remove any victims.
She commented on your mother’s eyes,
Eyes that stole comfort from the terrible silence
Locked away in a basement basinet.
I remember you, delicate
Wrapped in fluid before violence
Wrenched through the vacuum
Without the assistance to life
That removes mother from mouth,
A force to bring color to limbs.
You ceased before your name
No vigil or mourning hymn,
A eulogy that never existed until today.
Outside of the womb,
You borrow your brother’s smile
So big it forces eyes closed,
A sister’s laugh promenades
Echoes through empty rooms
Your mother’s steady red pen
signs your goodbye.
I remember today,
You pour from ink across
Thought to paper in some act of cul-de-sac penance
Frozen in my body as fear pours
Concrete through bone marrow cinder blocks,
I remember that today I left you at my Father’s feet,
Away from white gowned cannibals
Who feast on the science of little ones.
In a second my life changed like i could never imagine
The world was all Topsy turvy
and i a floating object in the turmoil
A simple six letter word
Thats all it took to take my stable world away
Upon that fateful day I was 15 and the date was May 12 2008
My diagnosis Hodgkin's lymphoma stage 2 B
My freedom was stolen from me
School i could no longer attend
People i could no longer see
The world was shut away from me
Chemo and Radiation were my companions
Aiding me in my time of need
But the truth in that was they were killing me more than saving
Strong of heart was I
I would not be taken down
I tried to show no fear or sorrow
And now am thought a strong young lady by many others
The most glorious day was when the cancer went away
September 28 2008 i was told
After I regained the freedom i had lost
four months later did my true story unfold
January 12 2009 I knew something was wrong
I was right I had not yet won the fight
Hodgkin's lymphoma was back to greet me
This time worse stage 4 B had me captured
A junior in high school i had been
But now once again I could no longer attend
Chemo my friend, we were reunited
I guess it missed me
This time a new component was introduced
Bone-marrow transplant, Auto stem cell
After tackling these feats I met radiation again
September 2009 i was said to be free
it was like history repeating itself
But this time i was wary
now it is July 4 2010
I am heathy, I have graduated
but the damage my six lettered fiend has reaped upon me is still here
An immune system i no longer have
My life still on pause
But i do not care
Because i know what its like to have your life dissipate without warning
Life is like a flame it can be snuffed out in a second
So remember my words
Please
Dont let any regret into your life
Dont pass a single moment by
Live love and try
Who were you today,
at your best moments?
Grouchy hermit
already missing quality dream times
and rhythms
when chimes greet pre-light's crust frosty dawn,
to get Yang, then Yin, up and out of our sangha,
ready to enter their own daytime sanghas,
tired drama of such anciently perennial retired,
repeat,
reiterate,
Monday through Friday.
Notice
red coal scale patterns
in blackened ash logs,
burning to fluffy carbon chalk,
nutrient potential for some soils,
although not mine,
perhaps my neighbor's?
Joy
for a bright, although admittedly too intermittent, sun,
sliding in and out of hiding.
A smile,
where one would otherwise have been sadly absent.
Cold
feeling Arctic on my ears and neck
and nose
and onward through
toward my aching bone marrow,
near my well-heated
and brightly lit
domestic non-destination.
Ellen Fisher on NPR saying
"No one gets out of love alive."
with so much enthusiasm and passion
for regenerative feelings and empathic maturing capacity
to manage anger's ego-offense
with a strong remembering love's co-opportunity defense
against high risk anthro-entitled,
narcissistic ego-bratty behavior.
Gratitude
for Yin political and economic cooperative investments
seeking Earth harmonic balance.
Terror
of untimely taxing rest as grace,
of older-wiser intent
without time to hear Earth's glamorous response,
to new found mutually speaking freely parts
and songs of dancing glances
Eagerly lifting
blue tarp skirt
of my elegantly stacked woodpile,
seducing me with more hard fuel
for erotic clandestine fires.
Feeling PoisonYang feeding on my trinitarian blind
and bald spot,
sucking in any embodied nutrients she might hope to find
within such great grand fatherly care,
laughing together
at just how silly we appear
even to our wu-wei selves,
together better
than apart
Still mind embodied fullness
content contention in this narrow midway
modestly chasing Gods of True Love reborn
Resisting insisting
long-married Gods and Goddesses of Angry Past Deductions
fueling Fear of Future's Inductive Reduction
dualdark disfunction
Confluent inhumane demise
sinking unease
singing ease
to full mooned
yin-hibernating
yang-hypernation
waning waxing sways.