no god would stoop so low,
to break a mind already fragile,
or put innocence in a cell,
let alone make it pay for some sinless crime.
there are ghosts who don’t leave,
they cling like smoke,
they stain a man’s skin
with the black of all he’s seen and felt—
screams sealed inside walls,
eyes kept wide, without sleep.
in prison, the screams bounce back.
you can’t shake them.
it’s like they’re inked into the air.
and the guards look away,
like they don’t know.
they see it all, and they know.
the world knows.
outside, people smile over dinner,
but in the dark corners,
they leave you to drown,
to choke on silence and shadows.
they’ll all just call it life.
He’s a very famous shell-man.
Who thought he was coated with teflon.
Can a narcissist be taught a lesson?
By him, the prosecutor and judge were threatened,
could the legal system withstand his aggression?
Yeah, his guilt was proven beyond question,
and now a 34-time convicted felon.
What’s he going to tell poor little Barron?
I doubt the judge will send him to prison,
but there are still some outstanding questions.
Like will his followers shake their obsession?
Will craven Republicans still nominate him?
Too many ups and downs in the journey
Too much sweet, bitter and honey
Far far away long way travel
Crying for peace in front of the devil
Destructed abstracted undefined destiny
Self-realizations in the middle of the journey
Multi-personalities in a tourney
Giving up and giving in convicted felony
For murdering the person in me
Painting characters to fitting in to see
Too many unanswered questions for thee
Humming happily for the sunflower-like bee
Praying for God to unlock the key
Self-realization got me on my knee.
That I am worth it and worthless
That I am hopeful and hopeless
That I am cheap and priceless.
I go round and round on my youth
Nursing my pain for pills of sooth.
I finally found out that realization is self-lose.
Her murderer’s name written in her own hand
hidden for thirty-five years
found in an old diary
My enlarged heart
not bears anomaly ... lives full
of love ....
I'm a convinced cardiac
so I love from the heart
who makes me pulse strongly ...
I live with a festive heart,
full of songs and flowers,
always an opened garden,
a watercolor of colors ...!
Political correctness
—prison of the new millennium
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
My heart*, wholly convicted by God’s holy writ
Earnestly confesses its stubborn arrogance
Humbly acknowledging haughtiness’ engagements
Abased against futile glory-seeking pursuits.
This heart is now open to the Lord’s scrutiny
Surrendered for His gracious sanctification
Believing that nothing is hidden from His eye
Since He alone discerns the minutest intents.
With my cleansed, pardoned heart, I worship my Saviour
Esteeming Him with gratitude’s joyful praises
By His tender mercy and gracious compassion
Here’s my yielded heart, willing to serve with faith’s might.
*Proverbs 19:21 There are many devices in a man's heart; nevertheless the counsel of the LORD, that shall stand.
June 8, 2019
innocent child
housed
on a homeless street
crowded
with abandonment
and disparity
is found guilty…
sentenced
to life’s fear
that today
will become
tomorrow
and tomorrow’s
tomorrows
will become next
week…and…
and…
what the hell…
Accused publicly
Dragged through the mud
Stabbed in the heart
Pinned to the cross
Humiliated defaced
Forsaken on my own
No one to take my part
Or even listen to my side
I may as well be mute
The verdict has been cast
Everyone is satisfied
Except me voiceless faceless me
I’ve been thrown under the bus
They’ve gotten rid of me
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
CRIMINAL CONVICTED WITNESS
What's that
Bad rap
Accused
Misused
Convict
Misfit
witless
witness
7/31/18
written words by James Edward Lee Sr.©2018
Political correctness,
—prison of the new millennium
(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2016)
K indly open your heart
U nderstand me
N ot just hear me
D on't make it obvious
A mend your judgement
C astigate me yes, But
H ang me not
A venge bitterly
M urder me not
A pprehend my conscious
T ame the animal in me
E xorcise my demons
T ake me to your church
E mancipate my soul
The Convicted
For Haiti
I am the Niobic victim
Turned to stone
At the cry of the earth
And my hopes, lost in
The cleft, captured by
A wayward earthquake
Why me? Mother Nature
Why do I deserve
This sheer massacre?
Wait a minute!
Are you just angry at me?
Am I in the conspicuous shoe?
As Dothan, Koram, and Abiram
Against you
I am the convicted land
Of ravenous earthquake
Of De-nutrient hope
And flickering future
Whose smile received the
Malignant woe
And my happiness now garnered
For entombment in a national grave
Mother Nature, Mother Nature
Why have you cruelly decided
To leave me in this wanton debris
Of strangled status?
Why so angry at me?
That my green hope slipped
Now you’re satisfied at my wreckage
Aren’t you?
Hark now, o ye victimized
For tomorrow, the eclipsed moon
Will shine to reincarnate the
Captured hope
And the entombed happiness shall blossom
Shining and glowing as the ginger embrace
Of the morning sun
On your De-nutrient hope
CONVICTED
Standing in defiance; with his back against the wall;
The convicted squares his shoulders up; to battle one and all.
They tell him he’s no good; convicted by the man;
But they don’t fit the shoes he wears; and will never understand.
Looking all around; and seeing all the games
It must be hard to see the light; when this world is filled with pain.
He didn’t ask to be there; but being there he is;
And he will get the best he can; when handling his biz.
Standing in the shadows; watching for the sun;
In his eyes you see him asking; when will this be done.
Trapped behind a masquerade; of make believe discourse
He’s living out his life in doubt; that he’ll escape from this remorse.
In this life is there no justice; Can we not forgive;
Even Jesus asked the Lord above; to let his brothers live.
Is it the man who didn’t fit; or did society not make room;
How many men with wounded hearts; must perish in this doom.
Treacherous fingers of discontent
Threaten to strangle my dreams
And stifle my right to existence.
I stumble over vicious words,
Fueled by spite and the rage
Of misinterpretation,
Designed to challenge my intent.
I was summarily dismissed,
Labeled a fraud,
And relegated into obscurity;
Judged guilty of a crime
I did not commit.
Yet, I remain loyal
To my convictions
As I expose myself,
Welcoming the scrutiny
Of those who would not
Understand me;
Steadfast and devoted
To honoring the truth
In perpetuity.
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