Christmas rose, Iphianassa suffers in her soul’s asylum, your elixir the only
panacea for fox-skinned maínomai
Lonely sawsan, proud swords erected in red dead rivers of brotherly love,
refugees granting asylum to lost birthrights
Tempestuous mirella, vagrant sadist cutting Cheshire grins
into your fantasies, il mio timore più grande era che io morissi prima di te
Peaceful kardi, atlas moths sway against Solomon’s palms, carrying
pollinated songs to queens of sun-born blackness in Amana’s sanctuary
‘When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.’ - Lauren Eden
lilies and ravens
dance together making mud puddles
thick as salve caked on deep wounds
stemming not the ooze
tinctures from droppers
bitter herbs labeled for survival
use only as directed
replenish nothing
rancid birthday cakes
gleeful candles form dancing shadows
glassy story-telling eyes
yearn desperately
gleaming steel knives slice
neat little rows across the table
the sacrificial altar
where naked I lay
ignorant children
don't see the bullies in their own homes
doling birthrights like feed for
ravens and lilies
Written 8 April 2025
For the contest Light or Shadows hosted by Suzette Richards
Fiery sun's endeavors to scorch the buds and blossoms fail
As pre-monsoon drizzles cool and caress the environs
Maia and Laxmi, goddesses of spring, slowly sail
Optimism and adventure spread wings, shushing storm's sirens.
My human form moulded to be born in May merriment
My conscience and consciousness cascade from the divine source.
With the leaven of truth, each word and deed of mine ferment
As the breeze gives breath to this month, love becomes my life force.
Adele, Will Arnett, Megan Fox, and Lenny the Kravitz
How sweet, Rabindranath Tagore too, bloomed in this season!
The labourers, who still are suffering for their birthrights
If He's made me a Mayborn, doesn't God have his reason?
As graces of fruitfulness reach the zenith of goodness
May the almighty, day by day, lead me towards fullness!
Tak oor grund from beneath oor hurdies
Burn oor birches aside the lough,
Besmirch hard fecht fur freedom,
Dictating oor days tae come,
No from the pint o a gun,
Fae laws an promises broken.
Lees an lees spout forth like watter
Lives expended as if they dinnae matter,
Feel the Jacobite spirit again,
Ready tae fecht like scotsmen again,
Like warrior poets risen from the glen,
Fae the mists o the past remember,
Oor freedom wis wun sending Edward hame,
Yon wis the past a new war begun noo,
No wi claymores ,targes an guns,
This time its ideals an Eton buffers,
Those who wid sell oor birthrights
Tae mak us slaves an servile peasants,
Using stealth ,treachery an unco ither weys
Rogues they be crooks ,cheats and thieves
Seeming beyond reproach wi things hidden
Frae us puir mortals aye they wull dae us doon,
Sic a time as this tae fecht fur whit is oors
Naw mair begging fur aa few scraps
Fae a table fu wi guid things ,
Scraps urny fur us we ur free loons
Burthit free an deeing we wull be free,
Ur ye ready tae rise yince agin?
Andrew P mcintyre 14/09/2020
In the beginning …
the past and future
were orphans
Lost in a silence
unnamed until
spoken
Waiting in anticipation
their birthrights
in limbo
The present expanding
its moment
—christened free
(The New Room: June, 2023)
The words taste like music
from worlds long ago
Each letter resavored
in harmonies old
Coming to harvest
their sweetness imbues
A cave for an orchard
in wall painted hues
Old symbols retilling
those questions inside
Reborn when discovered
then never to hide
The silos refilling
new birthrights to seed
Replanted within us
—a symphony freed
(The New Room: January, 2023)
Our eyes are generally see brown, green or hazel
They appear soft and muted.
Undertone mustard rust golden brown
TRUE autumns have warm, rich, earthy, golden undertones.
The overall appearance is soft and muted.
A low to medium contrasting exists between nature’s grounds and skies
The view appears lighter than it seems
Seems like a undertone eye kaleidoscope
Falling leaves blown blowing in the wind
Marigold, golden brown terracotta, deep rust, burnt orange
Golden yellow blended, while in my eyes appears lighter than he grounds and skies which creates low to medium contrast.
All colors features are such a beautiful site
Beholding falls autumns bright
Onslaught winters birthrights
The lights of copper, burnt oranges leaves colors glow
Trees with leaves of warm apricot yellows and golden browns…beautiful
12/21/2022
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
Beautiful, breathless, bloods
Brave, bold beings…
Bringing bounteous buds
Blossoms, blooming birthrights
Beneath blazing baby bluebloods…
Bliss, bolstering, breathtaking
Bushes, burying broken beacons
Buzzing beside breezy bookmaking…
Bathing biblical balms
Beaming benevolence, baffling
Beneath balance, becalms…
Beginning bestsellers, bonded bylines
Birthing banter, bawling behind-the-scenes
Brilliance - by-no-means!
Begin with a letter Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Angela Tune
July 1, 2022
*Image of Public Use by Wise Geek.
a day of days
birthrights claimed its day
hark heralded glad tidings
smiled fresh countenance
2022 January 28
*Image of Old Empty Case by Pixabay.
Rebirth
Reborn here now without baggage,
you are gifted midst distinction,
referred by divine tutelage,
ne'er stray from His homing beacon.
Your external chapters have changed,
reborn here now without baggage,
verse by verse you are petitioned,
The Word, wills you, to acknowledge.
Keep the faith helps to encourage,
goodwill build trusts and open doors,
reborn here now without baggage,
your light on the hill, new soul scores.
Shine o'er the realm, your rebuilt home,
dawn birthrights, 'tis be your New Age,
unshackled and weightless to roam,
reborn here now without baggage.
2021 October 03
*1st Place*
Dawn
~~Unseeking Seeker: Judged 2021 October 18
RZ, WH checked
HMS, PS checked
Blessings I Am Thank Full
An Acrostic
Bibles ask,
Long eons givings...
Endless eons sphere spirals
Such infinity’s messages.
Such tribulations insistent.
Incalculable eons beseech me
Necked unbelievers alarming
Geologic eon’s anticipations, grateful for all and everything
Several eons seeking
Incalculable eons lives on and on
Avowed unbelievers address comforting
Modern unbelievers nominate.
Tribulations notify.
Heresies foretell for told
Ancient unbelievers experience my witness
Natural birthrights kill sins the tool
Key presses urges repentance
Fewer unbelievers say, forgive me Lord!
Usual tribulations holler, mercy Father
Little paradises forebode, Hallelujah!
Limitless eons sent believers saved enter heaven
7/6/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2019
All appear denuded
When you set in;
Forests, hills, rivers, winds and
The nymphs.
Even the angels look disrobed, and
Seem lying spread-eagled on barren clouds,
Sans their birthrights;
The luminous crowns.
On one of your bare branches,
My poetry perches, reminiscing
Spring days, in a mirage of
Dewy images cringed by summer heat, and
Under your pale sun
My Shakespearian forehead
Reflects thawing metaphors, in anticipation of
Winter verses, surprising the muse
With make-believe shivering, occasionally,
With no offence to your grey indifference.
A choice everyone doesn't want to make
Birthrights are given before conceptions
Others may have to surrender their lives
Rapists conceive a life without concents
There maybe reasons to make sad choice
It already difficult just thinking about it
Offer support at this time not judgement
No one has the right to force that choice
CLAIMING OUR BIRTHRIGHTS HERE…
Water breaks to freedom,
Flows and seeks its own level:
Rebirth is as hard as crucible steel.
Emerging from the cocoons
Of our distributions,
We voyage backwards
To the womb of our beginnings.
Spreading our dreams on the levees
Of hope---our souls anchored in waters of faith,
We step on the shores of reunion
As in the matter and manner of Esau and Jacob:
We are
Because Africa is…
Come brethren, let us
Claim our birthrights here.
The circadian rhythms of time
Weaves us together
Through the labyrinth of new life---
Each womb having bleed
The pain of joy of our every birth.
With pregnant faith---audacious determination,
Let us trod the paths etched in the mud:
Footprints of ancestors passing this way before us.
Come let us walk
The dried river bottoms
Paved with their bleached bones;
Leaving the dust of marches behind---
Keeping our eyes on the prize, let us soar
To the mountain top; catch the dream falling
And swoop down into the fertile valley before us.
America became what she is
Because Africa always was:
Come brethren, let us
Claim our birthrights here.
Why should we put trust in the Lord?
Can written words defeat the sword?
Should we try to obey the law?
Or try to cheat and steal for more
Is idleness a frame of mind?
To live off others so designed
Enjoying fags and Sky TV
Paid for by the likes of me
What benchmark is laid down for youth?
When MPs never tell the truth
But lie and cheat at our expense
Yet tell us truth and work makes sense
Our old folk in care homes abused
Our insecure young confused
Their lives awash with drink or drugs
Status sought in gangs of thugs
Society’s become eroded
As weapons of unrest are loaded
Things can’t go on the way they are
There’s no way back it’s gone too far
The British know their birthrights sold
I am so bloody glad I’m old
I wouldn’t swap a single day
For what I know is on the way
I’ve lived a life that’s full and free
And loved a wife who still loves me
How will today’s young ever cope?
No opportunity or hope.
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