Best Rots Poems

Their eyes oases,
How  shock they bury in tons-
Rots in high places...

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ENVY ROTS

The subtle enemy called envy
silently sits at the roots of our sins
we rationalize ungodly decisions
to meet criteria- competitions we have to win

“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones”

Compelled, we mentally reduce others
taking  pleasure to mentally enlarge...

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Child, child
Listen to me
Where the wolves were about
Near the screeching a wild hog’s snout
Never enter the arch where the vultures scout

For the darkest of tales come true in the woods
Of a devil; a demon drinking unicorn blood

Child, child
Listen to me
Where the flowers do not sprout
And...

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twas an arrow shot
that broke my heart,my meka
king of all kings say...

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Once upon a time, 
There was veritable indifference
In the mind of a man 
Who always lies. 

As he flipped
Through movie channels
With his IO remote, 
The world suddenly became downtrodden. 

The discovery
That Howie Mandel 
Had actually became the host 
Of his own reality series 
Sent the...

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As humanity unfolds you can see the convenience of the buried secrets society has left to disregarding the inevitable point of curiosity humans always have for we unshroud anything we can produce as indecipherable. As the dirt is further dug we shall only find ourselves...

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Keep to yourself
Love
Lord...

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Language rots
in memories,
thoughts,
but in dreams 
above all
do lips blow
cherry O's and ah's

rolling hilltops into
milky afterbirth atmosphere
that I tumble down
quite suddenly by ear,

And in the valley pitch...
Blind visions—
Master!
Totem!
Taboo...too clear!
A knife pulled from 
ear to ear.

My tongue dries
in One breath.
There is no blood
to sop it's cracks.

Speak!
Swaying sandstone...

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Fish and chips and a pint of dark brew.
Malt vinegar and lashings of salt.
A fish dinner served up
by a truck in a newspaper cone.

That was then, that was before
taste buds got hard boiled,
before the bowtie culture wars.

Pickled onions are now too small
they should have stayed...

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My flesh rots dies 
(You cry)...
But my spirit never dies!

11/26/20
James Edward Lee Sr © 2020...

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As I succumb to the wounds you've inflicted
gasping for air, for life,
eyes bloodshot, cheeks wet,
Will you love me then?

My cold, bloodied body will lay lifeless in your bed,
my crimson seeping into the sheets.
What will you do?
Surely you'll have to wash those sheets
lest your next lover...

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FLESHY BODY ROTS AND DIES AS MY SPIRIT SOUL SOARS AND FLIES
What's in the heart
Somewhat fleshy, beating, contracting
My mind churns wrinkled like a raisin
My eyes visualize thing I shouldn’t spy
As my feet take me on a journey not safe
My legs cramp up as I strain...

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i wonder if this feeling will pass.
if the skin rotting beneath my eyes will become a permanent color of blue,
if the bruises on my knees will fade to nothing more then flesh. 
they say this feeling goes away as you age-

 im not so sure...

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How much
can one give before they crumble under the
weight of what could have been and never will be? 
How many times
can one tear themselves into tiny, bloody pieces, rip out their soul, 
mutilate
themselves until nothing remains but a hopeless shell of a person? And
when one...

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