These high-grassed moments
Eyed love's, o'erlooking
Bays, sparkle more
Desired forevers
Where Time, breezy too
Has not lulled for.
I am told sparks from a semi-trailer was the start of the fire of Longwood.' And
Dry lightening in ( twenty nine other parts )
And me.? My mind..Thinks of those fires in
Greece 'seventy and nine arsonists?)
Were arrested..They can't still be in prison? They must have been released?
Then there there was Los Angeles.! It was
Some homeless we hear.? Could cash
Have been offered.? To me one thing is clear.' There had not been an outcry.' From
The media who.' Are stuck to the green
Agenda as if they are coated in red gum glue.'
Right now I am tired,
But I am feeling inspired
By the way you are,
The way your kind mind is wired,
How I'm what you long desired.
I’ve bloomed past blossom season, a frame held by flesh, fragile.
Wrinkles appear now, near feet left by crow.
You see the grey in the brown, see a patch of scalp showing,
you see the change in my gait, see my once brisk pace slowing.
But you don’t see me. I am no longer desirable, desired,
nor worth a glance from afar. A smile. You don’t see me.
I was in a perfect gallery,
My journey could have been more weary.
I was on a trip full of unknown necessities,
I collected dirty obscurities.
I used to run the errands,
Massacre was another name for my commands.
I collected your nicknames,
They were too hasty for me to join such games.
I was in a neverland,
Worshipping you was never out of my hands.
I was on the unnamed surface,
Beneath that, you were merely a minimal face.
Your shadow was not justified by your choice,
Neverland was a home to me where you were my only voice.
Your courtesies were sometimes tiresome,
In your royal court, I was nothing but burdensome.
You do not walk on springs,
I long for you, not just because you are a living being!
You were the sole entity in that land,
Without you, it is nothing but a piece of sand!
Do not block or discount,
anyone who in God, with God desires your Heart
12/30/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
I have created for myself
a lonely place of despised remoteness;
many pictures I've taken off my shelf,
running away from humankind,
always refusing to settle down,
leaving no traces of my travels...
my identity remains unknown:
thinking I won't be found!
I have taken my retriever Alfie,
my suitcase and a few books;
soon new horizons to discover,
new faces to greet without doubts,
looking out for menacing glances.
and forward I go sensing dangers,
seeking a hut shaded by a huge tree,
hearing the bubbling water of a river!
I am content
With being only liked
From afar,
But I deeply wish
To be so desired
That it burns your heart.
Poetry of the poet can damage your heart.
So don't believe that.
A poet who thinks
And what he thinks is just for writing
So don't take it serious.
A poet falls in love every moment.
He is always looking for his writing material.
A Poet falls in love
To get sorrow again and again.
Sorrow is his beloved
He loves his beloved very much.
So don't believe a poet.
He is not your right and desired person.
Gone like the wind...
He was the one who got away,
She was the one who lost her dreams...
Two souls shattered or played by destiny...
They had mastered every strategy to aim for the hearts of those crowns,
Only to be outgone,
Gone like the wind...
Gone like the wind...
She was the one who lost her dreams...
He was the one who got away,
Those crowns made of heartstrings,
Were wielded by destiny's wand...
Anyone could despire but they desired these hearts!
All gone like the wind...
My poems haven’t been written to be a measurement, or reflection on any audience it reaches. It was written to be interpreted uniquely by each reader. When the intended message held in the words of poetry, is understood, it enables an intellectual connection to form between poet and viewer of his canvas, art painted with words, instead of brush strokes. Creating a platform, an opportunity to know and understand one another better, without spoken words, and over any distance. Where no opportunity may have existed before, or was lost over time.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUkwcPOXzqcInside
within this beating heart of mine
my love for you is true consigned
beneath my skin a flowing rhyme
is tattooed on my soul, enshrined
Above us only stars and moon
are privy to our lovers croon
We are Zosma we are Supra
desired songs of Kamasutra
You can count on me my dear
my love for you is quite sublime
we are orbits of golden times
always close and always near;
To each other we will cling,
as two Celestials Stars unhinge.
You don't see a problem.
With open eyes you see nothing.
You are oblivious to how broken I am and the cracks that splinter.
You sigh.
You're tired of this same conversation.
Tired of my mouth.
This smart mouth is only useful wrapped around the only part of you that you think makes you a man.
Left again melting in my hand.
Hooray.
I have completely changed for you.
For your plain vanilla embrace.
I have given up bdsm for this prison without chains.
I am bored.
I am tired.
I'm so f****** sick of not feeling desired.
You don't see a problem.
When my eyes are closed I don't see one either.
My heart burns low
My mind churns aglow
My soul burns high
My spirits fly and die
My desire is so grief-stricken and beautiful
My love’s fire burns on in my lonesome soul
Home is life to the flesh of my bewildered bosom
Alone is strife — guitar strings begin to strum
Woeful and guilty of what lies ahead
Strange things go through my head
Dread hangs me with a lowly noose
Instead, it leaves me with a bruise
I am, I am, I am
God’s long-lost lamb
I am a broken dam
Angrier than a ram
I am, I am, I am
His child, but lost in sham
I am an unspoken word unheard of in this land of you-will-eventually-understand
I am an absurd bird in the sand…I am a band without instruments — so out of hand
I am stronger than I realize and I’m glad I made a stand
To stay by your side, holding on to Your right hand
For our most desired
rendezvous,
our enchanted
moments...
We play all
Juggling lovely game :
our finest gestures,
our top words
our best thoughts... !
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.