bitty lit busy
ants stronger than cinder
-block busy moving
~
following the trail
beaten path busy workers
laymen in the grass
8/27/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
Every gosh darn morning I draw water from the well
Not having indoor plumbing has proven to be hell
If ever I find a way to afford it, that would be swell
I'm annoyed with carrying the buckets. Can you tell?
Lowering the thing is easy because it's so light
I'm chilly on Winter morns, even when the sun is bright
It's been the main reason for many a marital fight
Especially if more water is needed during the night
The hubs declared that it should be woman's work
His chauvinistic attitude shows that he's a jerk
He's a bit lazy at chores, and finds reasons to shirk
Sometimes he makes me so mad that I go berserk!
Usually, I can't carry the water without making a splash
He said he would do it for me... if I paid him in cash
His relentless sarcasm is nothing more than balderdash!
The rudeness is so irritating that he's given me a rash!
wisdom is the silence that outlives every question we carry.
Wooo a woo a wooh oh oh
I will carry. I will carry, I will carry you
My Father says...
Father, you bring me peace,
you've made me more.And not least
I am not bitter, but sweet.
You say you say I am of I am
As you are He the great.I am
Abba Father says
You say I am He
I am He
Who will sustain you.
I have made you
And will carry you.
I am loved and I will carry you.
I will sustain you and I will rescue you
2/26/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
Wooo a woo a wooh oh oh
I will carry. I will carry, I will carry you
My Father says...
Father, you bring me peace,
you've made me more.And not least
I am not bitter, but sweet.
You say you say I am of I am
As you are He the great.I am
Abba Father says
You say I am He
I am He
Who will sustain you.
I have made you
And will carry you.
I am loved and I will carry you.
I will sustain you and I will rescue you
2/26/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
I was born of sun-dust,
that is why my heart holds light.
In my country’s long night,
I dream of a morning
that begins with gentler memories.
Words can rise like seeds,
touching soul, heart, and pain.
Every breath is a promise
to every body and every spirit
heavy with youth.
I do not seek crowns of matter,
I seek the life
meant for all people.
If I fall, I rise again—
this is my belief:
after every pause, I must walk.
Maybe today, alone I stand
Spoiled by a quiet command;
A concealed teacher underhands
a lesson you cannot let pass.
If what is brought is such a challenge,
and what's sought is comfort, not damage.
Then maybe today, who's abandoned?
If there's a trap, there's cached safe passage.
Maybe tomorrow, the sudden will come to pass.
If ever so, commit yourself to what will last,
And if you need evidence to lay in your hands,
Then maybe yesterday you forgot what you have.
How can you be alone when unto you is cast
challenge after challenge, lessons you can get past?
From whom gives these problems to you?
To whom lulls sweeter swan songs tuned?
Maybe today,
you will remember the more there is to you.
It’s night time I hear white windy breeze
Making a song with pines blowing trees
Likewise I hear a siren far away
First responders on the move to save
Life of someone in critical need
Listen to there cries and heart beat
Or maybe a baby is being birthed
Good and bad days for them at work
Strange enough the cicadas are quiet
I guess it’s too cold even crickets are silent
Not hearing music or many cars at all
My muse is fast asleep as soon I shall fall
Carry my bags sandman if you can
From under brown eyes in tan hands
Fighting the urge to write until five
When morning birds will sing of light
When I go
Safe in arms
Carry me
on your shoulders
Like they did
When I was young
Forenote: In India, over 80 rapes are reported daily.
This poem is what that number feels like.
It wasn’t merely news.
It caught my breath
in a sudden, silent cage.
Someone else’s daughter,
once again,
became my own.
Fear became my habit,
something I grew up wearing,
and never learned to take off.
The wounds inside me
still breathe,
like hidden demons.
Like glass I shattered,
Scars making me believe
in fragility.
I am a mother now;
My heart lives outside my chest,
And fear is the shadow it casts.
Mother that I am,
My chest now holds two beating hearts.
With every screams,
Killing me half.
Every day
another girl.
Today,
the heart
bleeds again.
© Chitra Arun
In your role for binary..You on how things be, chromosomes have not lied in millenia
Gone by..Reality its still the same.' Its straight
And plain.' Just cause some(well confused)
Ideas ' pie in the mud ' make things so God
Awfully un-clear..As sod-em.' Its an abberation of duty
Ruled on by some (un-fruend) fiendish perhaps? And quite snooty.? Though whats
In a name.? Though quite german, as would have been with the nazis, such a
Moniker connotes of much un-ease, a
Benign name discription, dispensing of
Twisted jusistiction.'
We carry it
not because we choose to—
but because the body keeps its archives,
and the mind, its quiet drawers.
A laugh that once saved us,
a silence that once harmed us—
they follow like old weather,
patterns the sky has not forgotten.
We bring it
because the child never truly leaves.
They sit within the ribcage,
knees drawn up,
listening for familiar storms.
We bring it
because love learned early
etches itself deep,
and fear twice as deep.
Both wait for the world
to rhyme with their memory.
We bring it
so that the adult may meet the child
in the long corridor of years—
not to scold,
but to hold,
to say,
You survived. I’m here now.
And when that meeting happens,
the past loosens its grip—
not vanished,
but finally understood.
Have you seen women,
pushing life uphill
like Sisyphus—
without rest, without freedom?
They birth us,
they work even when their bodies ache.
They serve as if they are waiters
in a restaurant of endless demands.
They do not ask for joy,
they do not demand a pause.
Instead, they whisper prayers
for their family’s well-being—
faithful as devotees before a shrine.
And we—
children, husbands, in-laws—
what have we done?
Did we ever tell them:
“Rest today.
Live for yourself, if only for a moment.”
Even as their souls grow weary,
they keep giving.
So let us lighten their load—
a small help,
a little kindness,
so they may taste freedom,
even if only for a few minutes.
i carry your heart within me
(quiet as breath
and louder than silence)
the sky folds itself
into your eyes—
blue, unending, unafraid
i am no longer a single leaf
trembling against the wind,
for you are my tree—
the root in my marrow,
that blossoms in my sleep,
the star i do not name
but endlessly will follow
if all worlds vanished
(i would still remain
because you are here)
i carry your heart within me
To keep learnin¨g and teaching;
To keep elevating and reaching;
Is to never stop, to avoid ceasin¨g,
Allowing Christ in us to be increasing.
What we have seen and heard,
Let us show and tell
And fly like a bird,
Ever thriving to finish well.
God will always be God.
Give Him glory; never avoid.
God will never be coached or led
He is Our Father, Our Head.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.