Beating Heart
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
Beating Heart
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
Beating Hearts
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
Truths unfold, His mercies pure
Part of Our Father's love assure
Beating Heart
Beats ---JESUS
Undeniable, certifiable
Eloquent Elohim Our God
Beating Heart
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
For one and all salvation call
Just turn around and be stilled don't stall
One and, you and I recieve the free gift
Redemption's Grace Liberty freedoms face
BLESSED JESUS
Truths unfold, His mercies pure
Part of Our Father's love assure
Beating Heart
Beats ---JESUS
Undeniable, certifiable
Eloquent Elohim Our God
Beating Heart
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
Hallelujah
Undeniable, certifiable
Eloquent Elohim Our God
Beating Heart
Speaks--- JESUS-JESUS- My JESUS
Beats my heart--- JESUS-JESUS-JESUS My JESUS
4/23/23
Written words & Arranged music
by James Edward Lee Sr 2o23 (c(
Shall we send the lady with the scotty dog a card?
The neighbors did not know her well. Mrs. McDard.
They had heard some rumors, but nothing reliable.
Like her husband was an institution, totally certifiable.
I have not met him, but I heard he is in a loony bin.
This came from one of the oldies, Mrs. Lulu Skin.
I heard he is a player, and he ran away.
They were all watching her get her valentine that day.
Aunt Lulu is brilliant, a genius.
Are you daft? She is insane.
Her ideas are innovative and selfless.
Her notions are nuttier than a walnut tree.
She is an enigma, elusive and enthusiastic.
Did you get the name right?
She is certifiable, headed for a psych ward.
I have her name and her number thank you.
She is the most intelligent woman I have met.
Did you ever meet our mother? She was the bright one.
Did you ever listen to Aunt Lulu? Did you ever hear her words?
Mom said she was crazy, and that’s good enough for me.
She is insanely sane.
She is a diabolical disaster, bipolar, on lithium.
And that makes her crazy?
Mom said she was; that is good enough for me.
Now who is the crazy one? Please give her a chance.
No thanks. My mind is made up.
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Here he is, my friend said, tearing off a pink silk scarf with a flourish.
I was confused. This was just a storybook, right?
Don’t you recognize him? She asked me.
On the cover was a stern looking old guy.
I shook my head “no”.
Don’t you have dreams about him?
I began to laugh, and could not stop.
Not that guy! I told her. He looks a hundred. We are twelve.
I dream of him nightly, she told me.
He takes me to wild adventures.
I believe she is certifiable now.
Maybe she is.
He is Chandu, the Magician, she says. As if that means something.
I beg her to loan the book to me, but she says “not tonight!”
“Tonight we are flying a magic carpet to Egypt.”
I am torn. Should I stay over or run like a hungry cheetah?
Walking on eggshells,
with left-over scratches,
Brave little chick
into the world hatches...
managed to scramble away with a limp--
those eggshells, (and mama)
did a number on Shrimp.
Fifty years after, mama's still kicking,
pecking Shrimp's feathers off,
when no one's looking--
Some of her feathers are plucked to the bone-
her skin is bleeding,
she feels so alone.
Mama, she swore that ol'
Shrimp was an odd one,
just a non-Certifiable, sad
Family Problem.
Why, Shrimp was a Horrible, terrible Liar,
such a Bad chicken,
(and an awful flyer!)
But despite the hate,
Shrimp flew higher!
"We can't have that!!"
shrieked the old chicken, cackling
"Let's give her some
Chicken scratch,
and send this one packing!"
Shrimp walked away sad,
but then she got better,
She knows she's not bad,
(despite the mean letter.)
Yes, despite the hate,
Shrimp grew bigger!
"We can't have that!!"
squawked the old chicken Liver,
"I'll give Shrimp her
Chicken scratch,
and give her the boot!"
but Shrimp's feathers shine brighter,
now that she's flown the coop.
Roll on down the hill and rope one of those calves
I stare at the guy
He is a nut bucket
Not your bag?
Okay
Why don’t you climb into the corral with the bull
Now I know this guy is certifiable
War between mother and daughter
Queen Brahne of Alexandria shows certifiable behavior
Daughter Garnet is ready to take her down, and out if necessary
It may sound dark, but just part of a final fantasy that is begging to be released.
Mothers and daughters for centuries have been on similar quests,
annihilating each other, so they can both live independently.
Airships lie in wait for instructions, wondering which one will be ousted.
Will the daughter be imprisoned for life?
Will the mother’s sporadic behavior continue?
How far will each go to remain or become the queen?
The red eye of Gaia stays awake, to watch the war between nations.
Kyja and Necron must be defeated in order to begin.
Death and destruction toward the making of the Queen of Alexandria.
Insanity worked for him; he was thorough in his ability to show it off in a variety of ways. His brother kept his family away, not understanding the slim line between brilliance and certifiable. That was okay, he had his paints, his intensity, his obsessions, and his voices. He picked up his paint brush and began creating huge masterful swirls in the sky. He knew many would misunderstand, and this delighted him.
best insanity
picassos starry night
confused status quo
She is Crazy They Told Me
She is crazy, they told me, nuts, certifiable.
Forgetting I am nuts, and crazy, striving for certifiable
"She said this..."
"She had this look on her face...."
"I heard that she....."
I do not hear anything else
The paragon of crazy has entered.
She has purple and blue streaks in hot-pink hair.
Not a wig, but just as delightful, maybe more so.
There is a sticker on each cheek of a spider.
Her forehead is sporting a spider web tattoo.
"Can I touch your spider?" I ask her, holding my breath.
She laughs; a tittering, happy, chime-ful laugh.
A faerie laugh.
The most delightful one I have heard.
The others scatter, taking the rest of their lunches with them.
She can clear out a lunchroom!
Whoa, she is better than I ever imagined.
"You are Caren," she says, "the crazy one."
"You are Wanda," I reply. "You look certifiable."
She asks if she can touch my cobra tattoos.
I tell her, sure, but she has to not try to pull on it, for
it actually covers up my witch mole.
Best friends, born instantly thanks to the
fear and thoughtlessness of the status quo women
who bore the life out of both Wanda and me.
When my enthusiasm is high and I feel joyful
my mind is orange.
Wildly and outrageously colorful,
bursting with happy to help sad out.
Sad is gray.
She wants to hold me under her muck
until I cannot breathe.
I begin shrieking for orange and hot pink and yellow
to save me, and they do.
Brown and gray hate me,
and I despise and detest and ignore them whenever possible.
They want me to be depressed and angry, my most non-self.
I would be quite mad, certifiable probably,
if orange and yellow and neon pink did not shower
me with love and respect and bliss.
I would be carried off in a straight jacket
if people realized how psychedelic I am inside.
But I keep it under wraps.
It is bad enough to have nightmares where
I am screaming and kicking, trying to be myself as
infamous gray and angry brown attempt to
drowned me in the squishy mud of Status Quo Swamp.
Sh!
Rest assured.
I do not go quietly.
Rewarding bad behaviors
to me is certifiable,
however, that some school
theories are leaning
this way is pretty undeniable.
The ones who act the most horrible
are being rewarded hourly, and
winning fantastic prizes galore.
The ones who yell and scream and
act ridiculous are forcing frustrated
teachers out the door.
Today's incorrigibles are
the ones who yesteryear were
not the ones who were winning.
Yet, these days, in these great times,
these darlings are spinning,
in the hallways, on the roof,
and we are supposed to be just grinning.
Deplorable environment now, we have many
good teachers leaving schools.
Out-of-control children and their sue-happy
families are winning.
Are we a bunch of fools?
You don’t wanna meet Joey Fatone
He’s a Jersey Devil
with a Tasmanian attitude
Street whispers say,
“Baby” is a notch below
asylum certifiable
A wise guy, gator gait bad to the bone
Known to go postal ... jungle level
Joey loves giving dirt naps,
so don’t keep the short talk too long
Lives Cajun mean dirty down low in the Big Easy,
made Papa Justify give him the Skeleton Key
Stay behind the yellow line ... don’t cross the “Baby”
Always traveled light: Ruby and a burner phone
The Devil adored his metallic Black widow
Mixing business with pleasure was money fun to do
Fatone’s fist: shook rattle them numbered bones;
what you didn’t say, he never wanted to know
Best hit man for hire ... won’t pay the cleaner bill too
You don’t wanna meet Bobby Falcone
He’s a Bowery Hell’s Angel
with a Transylvanian diablo attitude ...
I dunno ‘bout that doc,
some brain study you say
be rock-solid science true
That playing video can make
a kid go plum crazy
You describing Mrs. Tenchey,
my ‘round the block neighbor,
it sounds like to me
But that old lady don’t play no video
She just plays her radio,
and watches a lot of TV
Now her behavior is certifiable fo’ sho’
Strange and bizarre
She likes talking to the neighbors’ cars:
says they told her, them mean mechanics
be mistreating them
Trying to put a fixing hurt on them
She be out protesting the sushi bars too:
says the po’ seaweeds are in danger
of losing their global eco-green card status
That the gov’ment is using some newfangled
ocean apparatus,
which is making the dolphins go bonkers
Doc, even you gotta admit,
that’s Flipper crazy ...
certifiably so —
Certifiable, no?!
Are you? He asked.
What? She replied.
Six Sigma Certified? He asked.
Why, no. She replied.
Are you? She asked.
Yes, definitely! He replied.
Should I be? She asked.
Yes! - He replied - You should be!
Why should I be? She asked.
Well, - He replied -
Utterly frustrated with her question -
How can we possibly talk to each other
If you are not certifiable?
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