I can hear It dying.
Over and over, its screams won’t leave me be.
Voices, not mine, they’re not real.
It’s not real.
In silent air, this quiet night,
Grey fog shields it from my sight.
The farther it sounds, the closer to me.
Out here is not the place to be.
It lingers, stalks, and does not sleep.
Empty eyes, a missing soul.
A broken vessel with no mind of its own.
A Ship of Theseus that shouldn’t exist.
Estranged limbs, countless shapes.
Contouring into something?
No,
Someone.
Multiple masks, hiding behind false innocence.
Deer, sheep, dogs, It hides.
It hides. It lies.
It lies.
Your flesh will rot
but mine will not.
I’ll wear your skin
I’ll be your kin.
our vibrant presence dwells in peace
perched atop a dreamy moonbeam
distilling lustre of the sun
that musings from pure heart may stream
before sliding into deep sleep
we choose a role in dreams we shape
contouring our soul’s creation
with the fragrance of love agape
there is no doing that we do
for as we mirror God’s heartbeat
rapture rises, each bliss hue new
in time stretched calm, we feel complete
Image prompt 1
Uplifted by grace, soul breaks into song,
contouring mists of love and strobes of light,
creating a rhythm for which heart does long,
borne on wings of bliss, ushering delight.
Breath by breath as rapture refrains replay,
a sublime fragrance engulfs feeble form,
inking us with bliss hues, now here to stay,
where heart’s the epicentre of this storm.
Divine magnetism grips us in its bind,
that in timeless time we become the flame,
head and heart aligned, truth of Self divined,
fulfilling our soul’s aim in life’s end game.
In the potent pause betwixt bliss beat’s chime,
surfing sands of time, we heavenward climb.
spine is a seamless energy implant
living harp which has thirty three strings
instrument upon which Divine Mother plays
surreal ethereal hypnotic music of the spheres
amplified by the three layered hollow flute within
magically contouring all octaves of energies
plotting the path of crystallisation of light
holographically replicated in each cell
as the rhythm of God’s heartbeat
as one becomes two
and two become one again ~
our truth has no name
In the existential dualist domain,
irreducibly implanted in intrinsic psychic arena,
we breathe as God’s generous gift
the divine breath of the enactment life,
as the source of congruent performing creativity.
The unwavering faith molds the mind
for its inward journey to enlightened eternity,
the ordained life turns into a turbulent river,
the currents of contemplation interlace,
and carry the elements of innate reflection.
The ultimate merger with the serene sea,
contouring the receptive calmness of the soul,
manifests in the final amalgamation
with the aspects of infinite euphoria,
sublimating the essence of mental motif.
The soul shines in the spiritual glow,
reflecting the patina of perception lotus,
as self-searching entranced odyssey ends
in the singular sanctum of the supreme,
the revelation revives the acuity appreciation.
The spiritual passage across perception stratum,
achieved by introspective dissolution
of the rigid notions through transcendence,
dissolves the division of outside-in and inside-out,
virtuous bliss suffuses as we bilocate our awareness.
The beauteous rainbow, which we admire
mirrors chakras seven in body-mind
and if for this truth, our heart does aspire,
we must first get rid off thought forms that bind.
From root red, sacral orange, then yellow,
illumines the navel and heart is green,
radiating love and bliss beats mellow,
whilst blue is the hue that adorns throat’s sheen.
Third eye radiates colour indigo
contouring violet at our crown’s crest
and if erst fears and desires we let go,
we act no longer at ego’s behest.
Let’s explore oh hermit, the world within ~
Tranquil silence is the way to begin
03-February-2023
Your beautiful young face is not interesting,
I cannot read it, there are no maps to follow.
God writes you in the long steps of time,
a face I cannot trace leaves me lost.
I want your life contouring mine,
different maps on the same journey.
Eye and mouth crinkles
offer an unspoken wisdom,
Laugh lines and skin blemishes
are prints upon a trail of tears
we have both walked.
You hold a mirror up to the sky
and ask it to paint you,
and the sky answers with the most
beautiful clouds ever to be seen above
this near-sighted earth.
DRAWN TO UNKNOWN SPACES
Could there be sight more alluring
Than the bending of a lane
Or a brow of hill’s contouring
Could there be sight more alluring
Tied attention thus unmooring
Like a lyrical refrain
Could there be sight more alluring
Than the bending of a lane
As the Sun lights distant clearing
I am drawn to unknown spaces
t’ward the light by pathways veering
As the Sun lights distant clearing
Always changing ever nearing
Viewpoints new or well loved places
As the Sun lights distant clearing
I am drawn to unknown spaces
Heart beats in fingertips
as a gentle breeze
beckons kisses
that quenches
deprivation
finger tapped skin
is an invitation for
Where do we begin?
Your eyes accompany
a guided tour
contouring the imperfections
of your sanctuary
making them sit perfectly
on deeper surfaces
Relishing how ancient
history evolves into
Time has a way
of wishing for
more moments
such as these
building mountains
by dismantling walls
wanting to find short
so I can nestle in your shadow
Your strength is solid
as saving grace
In you, I can see
the gestation of my
spirituality
I'd break more religious tenets
just to taste half of you.
Always falling in love
with how my heart feels beating
against your skin
Quiet at first
then a hush abounds
Reflection never
sounded this loud.
Watching snowflakes settle
into a large earthenware pot,
frozen fractals grow.
The snow is ridged into serpentine shapes
and the humped backs of deep sea monsters.
Bobbled ice forms dimple and peak.
Is this a strange art, a contouring
or a sculpturing that takes form
by the act of watching?
Why is it not the snow
deep and crisp and even?
If you stare at a cat
it will look away, wash its paws.
that’s called ‘displacement behavior’.
People are not much different.
There’s a force behind a concentrated stare.
Cats know something about watching snowflakes.
You have to respect that kind of power.
“oh hermit, listen to your loving heart
for that is where bliss ignition restarts”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blind
to tears
yet unshed,
as also deaf
to the entreaty
of diffidence muted,
clumsy, callous, eristic,
bigot living life in stupor
epitomises primitive man,
accidentally in human body.
Identity manifest here transient;
introspection revealing to us
coordinate at which we are.
If lower cravings attract,
that is where we begin
our self improvement
in soft silence,
contouring
self with
love.
09-December-2020
There being
no compromise
we flow into His heart
in astonished surprise
Within His heart
blue electricity afire
contouring a human form
wherefrom pure love sires
That that revealed
by mind misinterpreted
yet from our heart centre
we find being-ness elated
29-September-2020
By the grave I saw blacken snow flakes
Lightning flashed as I witness
Drawn down from blacken purple skies
Burst of brilliants, winter blast snow blind
Upon a midnight electrics static,
you came gently clanging
Deep into that darkness changing, snow blind
To warn me about the steady
That incremental isocheim - that incremental isocheim
Death shall bring trends
Eagerly I looked for tragedy, wintertime
The festivals alteration adjusting
The dynamics brought such sorrow, snow blind
I have dreams of flows misting snow men and women kissing
I crave the coolish, changeable climate
The cyclic cold snap contouring
Take thy gruel hot coal from out my heart
Come stand wit me twit the freezing blizzard
Come dear heart
Much I marveled the integrated icebox
The snow-covered snowplow steadying shoveling
So inviting is the thought…
To be frozen with me come not see will be so kind
If together we be 2 frozen lovers just snow blind
1/29/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
stay here,
find me passionate-
feel my idyllic pleasure fight none
exceedingly loved am i without fear
adrift the Atlantic tides rescuing me
into safe solace
echoes of your soliloquy reach depths
too deep to comprehend
your thoughts,
my words-
your amour,
my soul-shining wonder
once languid, now strong,
for this is the dalliance i’ve
always dreamed of in my youthful longings
contouring the outline of your silhouette,
renown for all you are to me and more-
whispering poetries to your heart
as i walk o’er bridges of hope;
for i shall never be alone…
again
nevermore shall be no more,
for it’s you that i adore
and
the moonlit breeze lays flowing-
this love we share, softly glowing
12.8.19
You asked me who my favorite artist is,
I find the work of the painter in my archive.
The framed landscape of embedded auburn meadow,
the pathway draped in leaves turned to amber flowers.
The reeds of wooden fence dance away to the horizon,
marking the trail of emotion fading to infinity, I follow.
The flaming sunburst sky live in vibrant silence,
absorbed by the translucent clumps of golden cloud.
A lone bird spreads wings above the tinged canopy,
taking my forlorn mind to the sky of sapphire, I fly.
The lively portraits of nameless radiant faces,
ebon birthmark painted on the right cheek always.
The feminine beauty magnifies in chromatic stillness,
permeating me with the flow of passion, I feel.
The effervescent faces flashing on the satin canvas
with the flexed lips contouring the rose petal smile,
takes my mind through the floral lattice of memory,
enticing me with your faraway grace, I still adore.
You may ask who the painter is,
I would humbly say it is me.
November 21, 2019
Contest : Your Favorite Artist
Sponsor : Chantelle Anne Cooke
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