New confessions have come to light,
let’s leave our sins on the dance floor.
Now’s the time for a crisp encore,
we’ll push aside feeling contrite.
Walk the line keep every groove tight,
the divine path you can’t ignore.
New confessions,
make the Devil pray and take flight.
Caught in a relapse once before,
wound up all but out of favor.
A heart pumping will make room for
new confessions.
Longing for faith, my soul beneath the veil in grief did pine,
Till Thou didst teach that Grace alone bestows this gift divine.
Nor can repentance bear its fruit, nor contrite tears impart,
Except Thou cast perfect brokenness into the sinner's heart.
In showing me the true beginning of the way to Thee,
Thou humbledst Thyself unto hell's lowest deep;
The fearful gulf yawned wide beneath my wandering feet,
Yet Thou Thyself – the only Way – dost safely keep.
Thy Grace alone sustaineth whom the deeps would claim;
Thou stayest him that else were swallowed in despair.
Thou askest nought but tears in true repentance' name,
And mind made new by holy change and faithful prayer.
From Thee all things receive their life, their breath, their being;
Thou bringest forth from hell, corruption, passion's night;
Revealing purity no mortal thought can compass seeing,
And givest Living Water, lest the seeing soul should die.
May each inhale be Thy cold fire –
Ineffable, unseen, without beginning,
Unchanging, deathless, never to expire,
Intangible, yet all my being filling.
Ruth: It’s all my fault— my lost hat! How can you forgive me that!
Buddy: Quite an ego you have, miss, taking blame for stealing bliss!
Ruth: I’m contrite! Wasn’t right! My pillow is drenched every night!
Buddy: You make me ashamed, my dear, I chose to chase it— you hear?
Ruth: I wish you had let it go, but there was no way to know.
Buddy: My gallantry would you excuse, had I not worn my shoes?
Ruth: But why’d God take you away, ‘stead of by my side to stay!
Buddy: In Him there is only Light— He’s sad, too, to see our plight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In tribute , of course, to Fried Green Tomatoes
For the “Disrobing Ego” poetrysoup contest :)
Confession
When we confess our sins, our faithful God is merciful and just;
He washes every crimson stain from hearts that learn to trust.
His grace restores the broken soul, His love makes all things new,
For every humble and contrite heart, He promises to renew.
His mercy flows to all who come with honesty and prayer,
And every burden laid on Him is met with tender care.
Confession is the first sure step, but not the journey's end;
True repentance turns the feet where God alone can mend.
To leave behind the path of sin and choose His righteous way
Invites the light of Heaven's grace to guide us every day.
His mercy meets the willing heart that longs to be made whole,
As Christ transforms both life and mind and sanctifies the soul.
Let confession be more than words that rise and fade away;
Let it become a faithful walk of trusting and obeying each day.
As we surrender all to Christ, our lives are changed within,
His Holy Spirit gives us strength to conquer every sin.
Step by step we'll follow Him until faith becomes our sight,
Prepared to meet our coming King, and walk forever in His light.
I’m on this side of the door
Only God knows what’s on the other side
I’m on this side of Eternity
Only God knows where I’ll reside
All we need to do
Is to open the door
And all we need to heed
Is to open our heart more and more
We are face to face with God
His face the sky
And ours the Earth’s face of multi-race
The sky His blue eye
Can we see face to face
Can we see eye to eye
Only by God’s grace
Yonder, will we get over by and by
There may be many wild horses
But we have bridles and stanchions
For the broken and contrite heart
In My Father’s house are many mansions
Pulled to align
The pendulum argued.
But the plumb bob knew
what's right and not contrite.
To be poised, centered,
upright, steadfast, sure
adroit, proud but not trite.
Dangling right on
the plumb bob line,
a pendulum perpendicular
pondered,
then answered
to prim and proper,
with ample sufficiency
now certain.
Gravity assured,
swings swung, spun run,
seesaw done,
all daft drafts
exhausted,
the bob plumbed
to settle on
aplomb.
Every night, the sky speaks its star language,
More often, I am carried away at sight,
To learn its colored, cool and bright message.
If I had listened attentively right,
I would have discovered how stars do move.
If I had study enough grace it shares,
I would have embrace the moon's beauty groove,
And the undaunted brightness it ensnares.
I only learnt the brightness of the moon,
And the sparkling little light of the stars,
That celebrate how its shining lights croon,
Its absence on lonely moon's skin: smooth scars.
Beauty of the night may bring a deep fright,
A miss will be a guise heightened contrite.
make way, make way,
for a maiden banished from my desolate plane.
she holds her head high
with her bindle in hand, and nothing in sight.
her countenance? fierce yet seraphic.
like divine judgment, contrite yet panoramic.
i watch you leave with wist—
i know you plan to reel me in,
plotting on me, like i’m an oblivious fish.
so used to my lack of adamant action.
you think of me to be a fish in a well,
though i know that to be aspersions;
i’m much more than just a hopeless whelp
described as nothing more than an accumulation of precipitation.
i am the vast sky, with even vaster aspirations.
We commend ourselves for all we have learned
And chastise God when our dreams have burned.
Are not our gains from God's provision
And loss oft times from our decisions?
We credit ourselves for all we've achieved
And blame our dear Lord when the blessings leave.
Are not all good and great things from above
And our losses not part of life and love?
We praise ourselves for all our wealth and our fame
And curse and blame God when our fortunes wane.
Are not all the means for wealth from our God
And losses creep in when men lose their awe.
We award ourselves for our successes
And ignore the Lord who lifts and blesses.
Are not all our breaths and each heartbeat gifts
And losses advance when due thanks we miss?
We bless ourselves with fit designations
And ignore our God without reservation.
Are not gains made by right hierarchy
And losses and pain by man's malarkey?
We heal ourselves with right attributions
Let's bless the Lord with contrite admissions.
Are not all good things from His lovely face
And loss made gains by His mercy and grace?
Come, come before me, hold me, embrace me, Pray for my soul. As you hold me,
I'm whole, just being received.
I am just being believed
I am cherished. I am encase in the breath of life. I'm seasoned, I'm not contrite
Been kiss favored full just cass, beautiful
Twilight disposition dark innovation.
I whose been deemed controversial
Engraved in submission
Come, come before me, hold me, embrace me
--I whom am envision
2/2/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2026
The quiet hush before the morning light,
Reveals the gentle promise of the day,
An epiphany dawns through darkest night.
When doubt and shadow tremble out of sight,
A golden thought begins its bright array,
The quiet hush before the morning light.
Bewildered hearts, burdened by their plight,
Find solace in the words so say they;
An epiphany dawns through darkest night.
The shifting gloom surrenders to what’s right,
In beams that paint the world in softest gray,
The quiet hush before the morning light.
We lift our gaze, our spirits feather-light,
While revelations gently sweep away,
An epiphany dawns through darkest night.
So let us greet the dawn, our souls contrite,
And bid farewell to fears that long held sway;
The quiet hush before the morning light,
An epiphany dawns through darkest night.
An epiphany dawns Poetry Contest
2/1/2026
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Unto, us a child is born.
That, we might receive this new tune.
Of heavenly wisdom from
his soothing majestic horn.
A promise birthed of a new covenant,
Not a land of milk and honey outwardly,
But, inwardly treasure, kingdom of light.
Not 12 stones to cross a river,
But 12 apostles and Jesus building
Thou, into a habitation of living water.
Planted a life eternal seed within the soul.
That the light that shined out of darkness,
Might shine into the contrite and humble heart seeking in truth and purity.
A gift to all would come to be ,
In this Jesus a new birth would
be given to thee from flesh to Spirit.
Once foretelling portents swam within the
Apogee bath.
Torn wounds in flesh,
unequip the afflicted. Lack.
Unilaterality Undesirables systematically
inspect an overture unto the future.
Incisions.
Indecision.
Discussions.
Decision.
Resolution Found between
Thigh
and
Breast Fat.
We spoke on the old West.
Distain allowed to follow
in
shadows' shoes.
Walk-
from the gravestone tomb,
Talk-
from the cemetery plot.
prefer amnesia, anesthesia, or euthanasia,
the lot.
Apposed to this undying pain,
grief,
return of
disbelief.
A contrite
Sorry resentment
Sodden in maple
Solidity.
Solidarity pushed well past
comprise while
the unconvinced so
remained that,
a sacerdotal yet
antidotal dissenter.
Go on.
Permission to let Pessimism steep in dark tea leaves.
Reverse dove beneath the San Fernando crust.
We serve a God who watches over us,
A gracious God who moves on our behalf.
He dwells in us, His presence so glorious -
Our hearts His home, our shield, and guiding staff.
He lives in high and holy places bright,
Yet walks with those contrite and lowly in spirit.
So, stay connected - cling to Him with all our might,
And we shall rise above the darkened heart.
To see things from divine’s perspective clear
Is truly the heart and vision of a seer.
Bring emotions to full alignment near,
With Christ’s own promises hold them clear.
Be strong, courageous! Let our lives shine bright,
A crown of beauty with His redeeming light.
Written: August 20, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Constance La France
Quote" I choose to kiss you in the wind, for the wind is gentler than my lips."By Rumi
*************
Wrapped in the warmth of your tender sigh
As night enfolds us, I merge with you in the sky
Amidst the silent serenade of whispering moans
Our lips meet in a yielding kiss, devoid of tones.
A gentle kiss upon the brow, silent, unseen
A whisper of flesh, soul, and hopes to glean
No spotlights or large displays of zeal—
Only hope, steady, and unwavering to reveal.
It doesn't blaze with fury or crave limelight
It settles in such silence, soft and polite
A pause in the chaos, a breath in the race
A gentle reminder: you have a safe space.
It rests on your brow such as calm at night
As hands that cradle when the world is contrite
A peace that lingers when tempests depart
No words to remember, just the silence of the heart
Our hearts echo a whisper, as a dove
A delicate caress, a breeze of cosmic love.
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