Lately I’ve come to realize my definition of love
Is not about joy and completion and belonging,
But more about loss and longing
A sense of grief for what once was
But never will be again.
I don’t think this makes me unique
But probably not in the majority either.
I think of all this today
The one year anniversary
Of Charlie Kirk’s assassination
Because the shock of that loss
To all of US is still so raw,
A wound just beneath the surface
That may never fully heal.
This recognition of love
Bound up inextricably with loss and grief
Makes me wonder if I am still in the minority.
I pray I’m not, as I wish the best for this nation
And this world, but I fear I am wrong,
And the callous heart that celebrates hate
Is still on the ascendant and not decline.
What will it take for America and the world
To have a change of heart?
I do not know.
Maybe it’ll start with the sacrifice Charlie made,
But it still has so far to go.
(9/10/26)
The cuts are clean
They will heal nicely
The wounds are bound up tightly
Cannot see nothing unsightly
Silver strands lay across the skin when seen
Sporadically laid across the legs
Can be passed off as rough play
True knew either way
If others knew
They never said
Probably too afraid to find us dead
With razor blades in hand or blood already shed
We didn't do it for the fear of dying
We did it because we were tired of lying
To ourselves about how we feel
Never properly taught how to deal
For the pain we felt inside
We were told to always hide
Made it seem like it was our fault
For never wanting to talk
When we were ready and mentally steady
We would come to find we would be dismissed
Stating it was part of the teenage bliss
Never truly knowing if we gained death kiss
I am grateful for understanding the words of Desmond Tutu
whose faith in humanity never ceased.
Who understood the value, the honor and the responsibility
of receiving the Nobel Price For Peace
Who preached how each of us must understand…
If this and any horrible time in our history…we are to weather…
That:
My humanity is bound up in yours
for we can only be human…together
Seems like all I could see was the struggle,
haunted by ghosts that live in my past.
Bound up in shackles of all my failures that I'm being reminded of,
wondering how long it's gonna last.
Then YOU look at this prisoner and say to me,
"Child stop fighting a fight that's already been won".
Now I am redeemed and YOU set me free.
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
and wipe away every stain
and know that I'm not who I used to be.
This is ME.
The moon and stars used to be
both things that brought joy to me.
Now I see them one and all,
forms that find a need to fall.
Drop and leave a vacant spot
where two lovers claimed their lot.
Spreading dust of dreams once made,
fireflies glitter in the glade.
I used to see moon's face aglow,
shooting moonbeams down below.
In youth I gathered them up,
kept them in a lidded cup.
I dreamed I would grab a star,
place it in a covered jar.
When I'd have to make a wish,
I'd just have to view that dish.
These memories bound up tight.
My star captured from the night.
And yet still I cannot seem
to find that sparkle in my dream.
Youth has gone and old age stayed.
Only blackness where stars once played.
I dream now of midnight bliss,
when stars and moon bow and kiss.
Catnip ketchup
Pleasant pheasant
10/3/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
It is right there in front of your face.
Look around, it’s all over the place.
Don’t know why it is you cannot see
What is plainly apparent to me.
Could I get you to open your eyes?
Look again and you will be surprised.
But you tell me that it isn’t there
Thus, you never have reason to care…
There’s a different set of life rules
Separating all the types of fools.
But we are all within our own box
And we’re bound up in chains and with locks.
But I think it is kind of a crime
To refuse to look all of the time.
And insisting there is nothing there…
Thus, you never have reason to care…
Still, I guess it can be hard to see
The whole forest from among the trees.
All the details obstruct and confuse
And will block out the much grander views.
I guess I could be totally wrong.
Maybe this is where we both belong.
But don’t tell me there is nothing there
Thus, you never have reason to care…
Crimson tide, Amber tears. Bones of gold, blood of iron
Hold me close to the fire
I seek my fathers aide
Warning, faithful to truth
Silver spirit, Orange soul
Broaden the scope
Trace down the shadows
Snowfall of blood
Marching to peace
Feathers bound up in leather
Kept from the flames
Made warm and safe
Words minted in bone
Zooming toward my own destruction
Powerful introduction to silence
Still alive, awake, aware, centered
Scorpions devour the stars
No longer a witness,
though not by choice
I still hear your smile
In your exuberant voice
Memories in my mind's eye
Bring it all back again
Can you still hear me cry
No I never spoke words untrue
When I said, I'd die for you.
Cause I never, ever lied
When I swore, when I swore
I'd love you till I died.
You broke my heart,
my body and soul
I was bound up with you,
you made me whole
Now, those ties that bind
Are cut away,
so I drift alone in pain
No I never spoke words untrue
When I said, I'd die for you.
Cause I never, ever lied
When I swore, when I swore
I'd love you till I died.
So baby, when you hear
I've gone away, don't shed a tear
And baby, when you realize
I was true, until the day I died
Maybe regret will fill your heart
It's too late now we're apart
No I never spoke words untrue
When I said, I'd die for you.
Cause I never, ever lied
When I swore, when I swore
I'd love you till I died.
Yea this is good bye
And I loved you, I loved you,
I Loved You till I died.
There's always a whisper of madness,
playing in my brain as I struggle to get
loose from it's refrain and the constant
pounding me to comply makes me feel
quite insane.
Disaster brewing behind blue eyes
bits of chaos that won't be denied.
They tell me the choice is completely
mine but they don't see or feel how
I'm bound up inside.
Touch the people and watch them fall
knowing the horror to come, the pull
to cause pain, is the worse of all. I'm
the bad man says the song, but they
don't really know bad, no, not all.
©SamHarty
On the exhausted ends of a day
you pick over a life that seems
to be just passing time
or doing things it rather not do.
Even when granted moments
to fly your freedom, you sit
with folded wings, those same
wings that once flew on the lift
of your dreams.
Now you just hop around
at the bottom of a cage
hung inside your head.
And when I call to you
to step out and take to air,
you curl up and hide from sight,
bound up in your cramped soul,
afraid, only a few feathers away
from losing the power of flight.
grief
a blinding, blurring, dizzying pain,
a refiner’s purifying fire
it scrubs us clean, like hard sand,
re-opening old wounds as needed,
so the new, the healthy, can grow again
it removes and softens hard edges
it sounds, deep in our souls, where it morphs,
changing us forever
it is bound up in both prophecy and promise
it becomes a gracious gift
a tool for remembering, humility, gratitude
it is an ingredient in the creaturely essence
but it never leaves…
not in this life, anyway
grief
Slogging swampy bogs, suction at the feet
Like pushing through molasses with a spoon
No evidence of forward progress made
Mired in a morass of foul decay
Vile filth closing in on what once was
Trapped in horrid ever-present now
Who can say what tomorrow brings?
What does tomorrow even mean?
The hands of time are bound up tight
Fetid vapors rushing up
Senses overwhelmed, recoil
Oppressive, suffocating
Forward has no meaning
No option for retreat
The world is closing in
Rudderless and lost
Disoriented
Every way is down
Such heaviness
Stoops the shoulders
Buckles the knees
Despairing
Silent screams
Go unheard
Hopeless
Endless
Nightmare
No
Way
Out
—————
For the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 11 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney
Written 07/13/2022
The knife in the back struck me ruthless.
I bound up the wound as best I was able.
I had to get small in my room at the farm
And store all my books in the stable.
Emotion sickness, Mal de Mer,
First cousin to the deep blue sea.
She courted me ad nauseum;
Made me Vertigo’s sad devotee.
While on my knees I noticed the dirt
Hard caked on the soles of her feet.
I counted my chickens as all wings and legs.
And I’m left with a page full of Fabergé eggs.
eating your own heart
leaves no room for joy's desserts
bitterness banquet
the law of Lamech
once bound up, is now released:
there is forgiveness
----------
Genesis 4:23-24, Matthew 18:22
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