Cactuses Poems

Thinking

Things that help me think more clearly:
Are cactuses. 
They love me, and I have a spine that is spiky, but just one.
Things that make me think.
Are.
My mom went to the restaurant.
And ordered everything off the menu.
Except what I like.
But that was a dream haha!
Things that make me.
I do like riding my bike.
I don’t, but I do.
I would ride it, but they don’t let me.
They do, but not across the world like I’d want to.
Make me… make…me 
Think more clearly, please.
To. Go to school. I go to school. I fail, but if I could think more clearly then I wouldn’t.
Anyway, I collect coins. 
That are lively. 
With faces that look at me, and there’s more on the other side of this world.
Sometimes, I think clearly.
Other times…
Are other times.

Desert plane

Shallow people
 in murky Waters
 Dissolution 
Sons and daughters
By no surprise 
Beyond closed eyes
 misguided kiss 
Unrailing Bliss
We have capsized 
Polarized land falls, sunshines 
Shallow people in the Desert Storm 
Shallow people alone 
In the drought caught up 
People standing in the shadow cactuses spit out 
Regurgitating thorns embedded in my side 
Spirit I rush there's no rains here 
The floods have stopped 
30 people in murky water
Downloaded drowned people no longer matter
For the solace sun has dried,
them all scorched fried now battered


8/22/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2024

My Name Is Iris

I like roses, lilies, cactuses, and other beautiful
flowers that display their blossoms most of the year.
I like red, white, pink, and even bright yellows.
I like all flowers, birds, bees, and green trees.

I'm different from others, but I like myself too.
God made us all to be ourselves and do our best,
and like His entire creation, to depend on Him.
So, once a year, one of my colors is purple.

I say hello and encourage the rest of God's creation
to blossom where they are planted and be their best there.
I remind them that whether it's rainy or shiny, calm or stormy,
God will be there with and for them because He always cares for us.

A Change Of Heart

Like water that was let loose from its reservoir,
I decided to gear my feet to where gravity will take me, 
than always forcing myself to flow upward,
just to go back down.  

I should go where the gust blows 
to be with the grasses that just grow, even without care,
than going against the wind 
to a direction where only cactuses have the right to thrive.  

I must tame my pride and follow the wisdom of the sky,
so, like the sun, I could thrive even when clouds are gray,
and even when days becomes the night, 
for, on one side, I always shine.

Sounds of a Garden

Although the Santa Rosa plum tree took a beating by the bugs this Spring,                                                            she's bouncing back in June but won't bear near as many plums as last year.                                                         I find her to be so unselfish as I noticed her looking over her shoulder at the                                                       lemon tree to wish her well. Over her other shoulder is another plum tree                                                                   of a smaller variety, and it looks to do well this summer. The cactuses seem                                                             to know neither limits nor enemy as they border the tomatoes as well as the                                     nectarine and peach trees. The squash appears to be sluggish from the struggle,                                               but the tomatoes are vibrant, and I can hear them whispering to the squash as  if to say, "Come on guys, you can do it".

060920PSCtest, The Garden, Dear Heart. 5P

Cactuses

Cactuses

Of a fringed existence upon a solitary majestic beholden expanse,
Saguaro forest brims an Arizonan desert thirty deep in noble stance,
1000 foot profound ampleness their protrusive inward succulence,
E'er so oft a filtered beauty blossoms unscathed of shielded intense,
Thirty growing crowns shadow a summit as a mauve sun pretense, 
Night strips down and starry-eyed cacti glamorize a lunar entrance.

2020 February 13

*Honorable Mention*

STRAND SELECT N,any form ,any theme
~~Brian Strand

Garden

Looking out of the window
I see nothing.
View to eastern hills,
Blocked by lorries, carrying soldiers
In combat-fatigues,
My town looks like a fortress.

In my room,
Cramped with books and history,
Surrounded by dusty calendars,
I wage a war for freedom
From captivity,
Wishing for a breath of green air.

In this prison of thoughts,
I close my eyes and remember
Golden calendulas, cactuses with tiny red blooms,
Whispering orchids and giggling ferns
You once tendered in distant time,
In a faraway garden.

Thus I ignore the walls.

The Rosebush

Despite the clouds
Despite the tempest
I will stay

My sands are
Crowded with shadows
Dark and irritating

In your bouquet
I have seen
Splash of love

Despite the cactuses
Despite the nettles
I will stay

I have been
To many temples
Same lonely shadows

I have been 
To churches too
Same tall eucalyptus

I have been 
To many windows
Didn't find rose

Despite the refusal
Your sharp statements
A flame was unmistakeable

A flame for
My hungry palm
Waves of warmth

Green and soft
Leaves like lotus
Peace in nucleus

A blue nest
A little rest
A cool fireplace

My shocked canvas
Tired and torn
Will now rest

Let me lean
Against your thorn
Until the day

The flowers glow
___________________________
July 22, 2017

Flower of Void

Cactuses are less or more interesting
One at first appears less interesting
But it has spellbinding flower 
With its beauty to awake the soul has the power

That flower is as colorful as a butterfly
And in its unusual texture its beauty will lay
Its complexity is like kaleidoscopic eye
It is hard to believe it comes from earth not the sky

That flower reflects what is even more bizarre
Void that has no space even as far
As last light of the soul
No space in Omni verse as a whole

However from that void like from the womb
New universe will bloom
Conscious is more than existent
Unconscious is more than not existent

So opposite of nonexistent would have to be
Something beyond conscious maybe
Immortality
But beyond all consciousness it would be

So far beyond immortality
Or infinity
As this grows more and more abstract
Makes me think what is beyond abstract

As this opposite of void
Is in certain reference point
What is pinnacle of thought from every point?
And philosophy that knows meaning of life from such point

Gift of Minds Eye

Violet orange gold sunset beautifies the sky
Towering cactuses on endless expanse of the desert lie
The dream of stone winds- ancient catacombs will never die
This is the gift of mind’s eye
 
For soon you will find
You are not in the desert but in your own mind
The dazzling smell of sunset would guide you if you were blind
By the vastness of stone winds the soul is defined

The night appears above
The stars in clear desert sky sing of universal love
Your spirit grows like a grove
Your soul is filled with love

Suddenly among the stars you are
Traveling with every star
You see moons orbiting planets from far
Distance is immeasurable yet you can define it from where you are

Stone winds are bliss
That sails celestial abyss
You see strange life forms hiss
From many planets spanning the cosmic bliss

The seas of methane dazzle with vastness and majesty
Mathematical base for life different then on earth will be
Elements different then on periodic table fill the planet’s sea
And who ever possesses the soul of it all can write their own destiny

Somber Psalm, Translation of Carlos Bousono's Poem: Salmo Sombrio

Somber psalm, Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem : Salmo sombrio

(from Carlos Bousono’s first book of poems, written before he was 22 : Subida al amor (Ascent into love), 1945, and dedicated to the 1977 Nobel laureat, Vicente Aleixandre.) 


Do not pass by me , O ! God ! incognito,
do not cross my path like a sky emptied of its stars,
for my body turns in upon itself in flames,
loving you in silence with such persistent anguish.

Do not cross my path while I keep loving an obscure entity,
while I continue to whimper among cactuses, among stones.
So turn Your face away, Your face that I fear
during such a roaring and wild night !

Keep Your distance from me ! Abandon me in the dark !
so that I may wish to be the source and thirst of this earth
in order to be able to love this twisted
trunk of a body sans light, all alone in this blinding wilderness !

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013

Macabre Gaiety

Take my senses away
Make me crazy,
Stir some memories
Make a story;

Oh, Love me to death,
Give me a life then kill me.

Show me the way
Then lead me astray,
Enrich me with love
Then waylay me;

Be my friend, betray me,
Be my God, bedevil me.

Let's congregate in a tavern
Worship in this safe haven,
Follow no faith
Pander to no priest;

Let's hobnob with the angels,
Befriend the demons on the sly.

Drag my soul through the desert
Then carouse there in an oasis,
Set me ablaze with your passion
Then douse it with your sweat;

Let's sleep on a bed of cactuses
And thumb our noses at the heavens.

Ha, let's grow up
And just kid around,
Lie down in a grave
And wake up in a cradle;

Let's usurp the world from Atlas
And rattle the hell out of its core!


~A Strand (1047) contest
~Sponsor: Brian Strand

Desert Trekker

A vultures patience in 
hand,
My naive soul wanders in sand
Into a vast desert of life.
Battling in strife,
Through sand and dust storms.
A trekker of me it transforms.

Impelled into cactuses 
incarnation 
And hence surviving long thirst 
duration.
At times, enduring the scorpions 
sting
And all other hazards that spring.
A calloused heart I now possess.
With experience, the future I 
bravely assess. 

Deception of the mirages
No longer deceive my eyes.
I can see through the dust,
For I have gone through worst.
With globules of faith and 
determination,
An oasis I will find at my 
destination.

Pachamama

In between deserts
Ocean there I lie
Pachamama
As  high as elimino tide
In dream in one piece

Palm heart cactuses
Tides echo  pacific  whales
Land of accasias in treasures
Pachamama fly my soul in whale

The wound grow ashes in tears
Desert to pacific gate to open forbiden
Meet Kurosho collides Oyashio
Pachama will comeback all in one piece

The Still Desert

The desert is upon the sun
Pallid from being dried up without water
The pyramids stand tall among the howling wind
Made holy by the sanctified Egyptians
The desert being as long and wide as an ocean
in a sudden reverie of a daydream,I think i am there
With thorns on all the cactuses I pass them by
I discern the fact that I cannot touch them
Without realization I come upon a statue as scary as the dark night
Hoping not to seem repugnant I step away fast trying not to offend the statue,for it 
may come alive
I give my name quick,Patricia so I can open the gate
As I step in I feel illiterate because the writings on the wall I cannot read
But then I follow an Egyptian cat who eyes glare
Deviouly I indirect myself from the cat
only to see that the statue is blinking at me
Deftly I make a skillful move to ensure I get away although being assertive in my 
own right
did I profusely receive parting gifts
Coming from the dark abyss
Unscrupulosy I am told I can take these gifts free of charge
Not wanting to leave ,but having to lose myself
Always remembering though why the desert is so still

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