Best Remold Poems
Mother' has no nature,
T’s mind’s illusion,
Brings to that conclusion,
T’was God' who made the worlds,
And saves from perils,
Also the vast expanse,
T’was not by chance,
By great explosion'
Was God’s exposing,
His inner self, to some degree,
That all could see,
What nature' Love be,
The Tower' of power,
The great bang'
Scientist claim,
Brought our world to fame,
Power of God’s great quality,
Brought forth this great quantity,
Love is the nature of it all,
Because of God’s call,
It doth not fall,
By love’s intention,
God’s invention,
Of spinning intention,
Black holes'
Are only God’s goals,
They only remold,
When forms grow old,
And finish their intention,
Of love’s invention,
Recycling the universe,
Getting ready, for re-disperse,
Re-forming new forms,
No cause to be alarm,
Great consciousness' the- God-of bliss,
Keeps up--with-all-of -this,
Some call, great cosmic mind,
Doth keep aligned,
The worlds are fine,
The great cosmic mind’s,
Nature love, is fine,
Keeping all aligned,
And purely refined,
Mother is in line,
Till end of time,
Love's gold' Life cycled,
Doth never grow old,
Re-cycle, Re-mold'
Love' God's Gold!!
9-18-09 [email protected]
Written: November 23, 2025,
**************
Verse rises beyond the leisure emblem
It helps to guide the spirit—
A murmuring wind snakes across the heavens
Where yearning and honesty meet
Under the confines of a single line, twist and whirl.
We do not reign over the subtle craft of words
Still bright vessels carrying a load of melancholy facts
Rich with the tight grief of living—
Scripture is useless to tackle the pandemic
Avoid using contrasts to hide your feelings
A way to cope with it—the ink shuddering
That discrete burial.
A poet is beyond being a word nerd.
Neither a rash historian of the art of poetry.
We shatter the ordinary—
aspiring to the nirvana of heaven.
Unwavering in the face of the smell
We explore the remnants of society
Discern the divine from the false—
Cast also aside the sustenance fed to our tired souls
With soaring constructions of meditation.
Our words are beyond typical
They are agony palimpsests—
Gold imbued with the spirit of creativity
Every revelation is a beat in nothingness.
Every sign we remold is a critical web of intention
We write not to impress—
We liberate the spirit by sharing concepts
We aim to elucidate our true convictions
Against prejudices we crave to combat—
Being different helps us to combat stigma and create unity.
Poetry challenges the mundane—
It is a flight with avid sensitivity and bravery
Verse stretches beyond what makes sense
It captures the morning beyond words—
which rises from our innermost soul.
When the world cries for a solution
We present a riddle.
When it pursues joy—
We provide a gloomy glance
When it craves order—
That is an aspect of reality.
Our aim is not comfort
We come as one, set to rise from our slumber
To turn the sorrow into something aesthetic
We show the complex quilt of ties.
To be the Nereid, static against a tempest
The heron, draped in the dawn misty veil—
Soars a calm bird at the core of the turmoil.
Righteous Father hold me
With my heart remold me
Embrace this my vessel
Please just love me
Console me captivate myself
Increase your breath of life in me
Mighty awesome come before me
Please just love me
I am your patched up vessel
Pour into me
Fill me within your goodness
Renew me my mind, body and soul
Give me your love to give out
I love you Father, Daddy take me higher
Mistaken misfortune sinner
Guilty broken forgiven enriched salvation
solid in my Redemption repented learnt lessons
In my downs now I am up...yet in still
Yet you just love me
1/27/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2o23 (c)
The shock of the slap, the sudden
attack leaving you off-balance, reeling,
smack reddening in astonishment like an enforced blush—
a mark of antagonization as if some cold hand
meant to remold your mouth, gag
words of love, truest scripture, the peace of non-religion
that is Christ who longs for us to befriend:
the thief, the whore, the lost and infirm, every cursed Judas,
all races and ages, unbelievers, the rightfully imprisoned and even
the tyrants of today who defile a faith by delivering blows
though the other cheek is willingly offered,
turned by the Holy Hand, so softly, meekly, adoringly ...
His kiss, ready in the breeze, the Messiah’s healing balm.
His warm heart within you, calming your storm.
Say, the pen mightier than the sword.
Though spoken forth from what we afford.
We learned that this meant something else.
Freedom of press mentioned what it dealt.
Though I bring forth a new meaning to hold,
Freedom taken away by one pen so bold,
Silently scribbling away, smitten and cold,
Honesty forgotten, breaches contracts sold.
Beyond our forefathers warnings were told.
Beware not allow one privilege to unfold.
Should not be barren of voice of people in mold,
Equations written long ago, so foretold.
Heads of state have not total power, pen of gold.
I heed to watch closely, or we are controlled.
Powers still belong to the people, before remold.
Each of us should gather wits, let balance uphold.
In the midst of the raging waves,
they watched her gulp the callous cunning darts.
Her crumbly heart cruelly impaled; the fate that enslaves.
So fondly she’d mask the marks.
Her soul would ache and bleed from life’s glaives.
She cried an ocean for redemption from a life perpetually stark.
In desperation, the rope ends it.
With stigma the chums looked in utter scorn,
and nattered her solitary life she so drowned in.
As a jest they’d laugh it off and know not the pain borne.
Options to content would be the faster poison to kick in.
The jeer and tough love, be strong. Would suicide suborn?
Yet blithely a random word alienates, even with the kin.
The loop finally tightens round the neck.
With croc tears the mates flock to condole.
“If this message would reach Mary in heaven;
life lost so young—” all will strive to console.
For what? She writhed in pain and longed for a haven,
but scornfully, her soul you shunned like a rotten pole.
Her tombstone, now a patch-spot for a raven.
World’s cold shoulders soaked in her silent tears.
Be chaste, fair-weather friend, lest you atone.
Religion and priests you’ve scorned,
while the vain fanes of pretense you adorn.
In exalted hallow worship, you plead with Him
to remold the hearts of clay to vessels of honor.
Yet in your hearts of tin you curse and vilify—
you thought it was an act and left her marooned.
For remaining Mary, my soul cries to you.
Blinded by constant flopped success.
For the media, it’d hurt not to leave a cue.
Live the sacred life, gifted as a princess.
And flout their nonsensical bleats of an ewe.
I’ll wait on the podium for a fess.
It’s never the end—you’ll ever chew the bitter pill.
Revive forth own verve
By stating your swerve
Extolled
Height of straight, deserve
You thrive and observe
Withhold
From the maelstrom, serve
This wicked world's nerve
Remold
Show the strength you hold
Your wings just unfold
God cheers
Fawning dazzling cold
Peace and faith are gold
Calm fears
We are soft-built mold
Bleak tales will be told
Shed tears
Thwart faults from past years
When gray face appears
Conserve
Trawl wise warn from seers
Gold rings in your ears.
Subserve
Life, precious gift dears
From bright life, mind peers
Preserve
Written: March 16, 2023
Virelai Form
Write Me a Virelai Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Rodrigues
The mirror’s morphed me SEE
I mimed__ the black- button eyes
sewn on it seems, as if in a dream
A dream of the acid kind__
Belay! That plank _ me pirate peers
A straight-line saunter, your prisoner cannot muster.
Just send me to a new crew-cut, seer
who will remold this immortal blunder.
Neither man nor beast am I_ I’m a chimera
A botanist's flight of fancy....
*Chimera - an organism, or part of one,
with at least two genetically different tissues
resulting from mutation, the grafting of plants,
or the insertion of foreign cells into an embryo
Days pass aloof to all hearts reap,
strays memories we wish to keep.
Ploys of time constantly remold
joys that we wish to ever hold.
While eyes close to deeply reflect,
vile time spies flashbacks to infect.
Should time leave my recall intact -
could be my joy would first react!
For god so loved the world that he gave his one
and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not
perish but have eternal life. John 3:16 NIV
…the great street of the city was of pure gold,
like transparent glass. Revelation 21:21 NIV
DON’T SETTLE FOR FOOL’S GOLD
You wear that blindfold like
it’s fool’s gold. In merriment,
of excessive drink, the age-old
predicament, a curse retold -
‘tis cold within your heart,
unpatrolled by Holy Spirit.
Lift up the golden leaf, unscrolled.
Pages, let words mold to your lips.
Be bold in exaltation lift.
Fold your hands as you hit your knees;
thus God will hand you manifold
blessings. Close that centerfold - its
wage is sevenfold-sin:
the stronghold of pride,
lust, greed, envy, sloth…ice cold
gluttony and wrath. Take hold
the undersold Word, uphold light.
Does God withhold anything good?
To be controlled with patient right,
no need for scold nor scalding fire.
Better to be enrolled - the wise
fight to be paroled…nay…redeemed,
foothold on solid ground with sound
mind. Wait ‘til you behold Christ’s face,
caroled with the saints. I told you
so…heaven’s streets are solid gold.
Take hold of an inheritance
out of slavery…you are sold.
Don’t stay white-washed, stone-cold sinners.
Remold your life - believe the cross.
Behold the resurrected Christ!
5/12/2022
I am dirty
I am a molded creature
A mammal
My heart is fixed
My body dirt, my body clay
I was made by the hands of a mighty, mighty KING
creator of ALL and EVERYTHING
I have a beating heart
Helps flow my beating parts
My heart is flesh
Yet my soul is spirit
I am dirty
I have a cold harden heart
Yet still beating
I am dirty
My heart is fixed
What's left
must I repent
O' Father, Abba Father
remold me, caress my stony heart
Kiss me Father breath into my nostrils parts
Redefine me, remold me into a newness of you
I am dirty
I am a molded creature
A mammal
My heart is fixed
My body dirt, my body clay
I was made by the hands of a mighty, mighty KING
creator of ALL and EVERYTHING
I have a beating heart
Helps flow my beating parts
My heart is flesh
Yet my soul is spirit
I am dirty
I have a cold harden heart
Yet still beating
I am dirty
Oh! God wash me
Hold me
Renew me and mold me
Maken unto me a renewed better image of you
I was A BROKEN VESSEL OF CLAY
I ask the Father, when I was broken
Would He come into me and remold me
I am just clay, dropped my purpose now I need to be remade
O' Father remake me
Would He come into me and remold me
Cause I'm broken
O' Father remake me
Mode me, remade me remake me
Cause I'm broken
I am just clay, dropped my purpose now I need to be remade
Mold me, remade me remake me
I ask the Father, when I was broken
“I was A BROKEN VESSEL OF CLAY”
5/16/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
a Pantoum Poem
There you are, locked inside your heart of stone,
held captive by satans snare and it seems that no one knows.
There are doors left unopened and doors closed to your entering,
the key to unlock them can't be found.
There are places in your heart unknown th thee,
and untouched by human care,
but their is One who knows your heart and He 'll search it thoroughly.
GOD's grace is greater than your sin,
it's temptuos, alluring ways will have no barrier on thee.
Every door left unopened has a purpose, a place and a time
and the key is The LORD JESUS CHRIST.
JESUS knows every place inside of you,
and just One touch from Him will shatter your heart of stone.
He will remold you, reshape you and build you up in CHRIST,
trust His power to make you whole!
(c) Feb. 9, 2007 Rosemarie Schrock
Sometimes,Destiny is in the bridge we build.
innocence fade and the past will always remain.
It's where we get the knowledge we gain.
It's in the bridge, the promise that was sealed.
It's in those process wherein I was healed.
we build the bridge,to free ourselves from the chain.
we forgive,love and trust even though there was pain.
In my faith, those worries and fears were killed.
Maybe it's really important to build a bridge to people we love.
It takes time to grow and i don't have to remold destiny.
All i need is to keep this bridge strong,
It's one way to value the things I have.
The challenges will remain as a mystery.
And the symphony in this bridge will stay as a song.
Ultimate truth it's cradle is wisdom
All begins is wisdom’s simplicity
Joins together a begin to an end(Agape's wedding band)
Truth doth end all knowledge complexity
Source wisdom refold remold wisdom gold
Life’s journey’s end is a journey’s begin
Ultimate choice humanity’s own voice
Where wisdom begins and knowledge ends
Wilderness__ lost souls intertwined__ in mind
Thus we all shall arrive at very start
To know wisdom begin for the first time
Wisdom’s center where souls of hearts did part
Through an unknown remembered sacred gate
Unto source of wisdom’s longest river
Souls return unto wisdom’s sacred fate
To ultimate truth__ wisdom’s life giver
Ultimate wisdom sacred DNA
Wisdom’s Agape__ ultimate creator
The child’s sacred return from it’s play
Knowledge returns from complexity’s tour
(Inspired by T.S. Eliot)
We shall cease from our mind’s exploration
Costing us not less than mind’s everything
When our tongues of mind’s flame are in-folded
Only then crowned knots of fire and rose become one
3-24-10 [email protected]