This garden’s neglected, the grass grew too tall
The bushes and plants look half-dried
Cracked slabs lay uneven, the dog’s water bowl
Is covered with leaves and dead flies
Front door’s off the latch, windows wide open
No photos in frames on the mantelpiece
A phone on the table must’ve been broken
Unlikely it held fingerprints
Wormwood and ivy have grown way too large
Almost conceal the brick walls
Everything seems like completely discharged
Unavailable to any calls
Was it the other day I saw you there?
When was the last time we met?
Tomorrow can’t come, cause it’s busy somewhere
No time for tea can be set.
Her world has become suspiciously small,
mind walls are blocking margins of escape,
soon she’ll be discharged to fair Pania,*
and there perhaps elegant folderal
with a handsome man in landscape dreamscape
of enchantment beneath Urania,**
(never again to know infernal sins).
Is she trapped in the web of Aranea?***
Perhaps; perhaps not, but with hope agape,
and fingers crossed, she plunges deeper in-
to pools of mania!
* Greek, derived from papias, meaning "crown" or "guard of the Imperial Palace".
**goddess of love; counterpart of Greek Aphrodite
***an orb-weaving spider
The longing only increases
The time slowed down its pace
Memories split into pieces
Each of them shows your face
You wouldn’t come, if I call
Most probably, there’ll be no sound
Again there’s no sign at all
If you ever can come around
Anguish of bereavement
Crushes me every day
Is this my life’s main achievement
Why do I have to stay
If you can’t send a letter
If your phones are discharged
You are my unforgettable
The weeds in the garden grow large.
He’s together now, they say,
turned out, free to walk the street;
adult child turned out to play
amid grey walls of concrete
streets strewn with disposed joys,
the stench of human fluids.
Bozos wave their lethal toys;
aging goths, pseudo druids,
faces lit by flashing screens.
promenading, zombie-dead
watch desperate dancing teens,
nature’s lemmings, AI lead.
He’s together now, He’s told,
so discharged, they need the bunk;
adult child thrown in the cold
amid barely walking drunk
searching, seeking that which numbs
the pain, soul-crushing shame.
Left to beg for others’ crumbs
he just has himself to blame
they say, go scare up some work.
he does, then try as he might
he’ll catcall some guy a jerk,
end up in another fight.
Love and hate are emotions great,
Yet they are not so far apart.
To many people they seem eternal,
Perched like Janus at the ends of love’s circles.
And the circle of love rarely completes.
It’s a bracelet with a very narrow gap,
Which separates strong emotions,
Ensuring passions of diverse souls aren’t rapt.
But sometimes during strong emotional duress
A lightning-like scintillation occurs,
And across love’s tiny security gap
Emotions of opposing souls are transferred.
Passions unleashed take flight like birds,
And their feverish flock flashes frenetic,
As emotions great, such as love and hate,
Get discharged in a blinding effect electric.
Once hate is unleashed, love gets freed.
And the souls of lovebirds can meld magnetic.
mirrors are flawless til observed ~ yet beauty dwells in a broken shard
yelled the beast stabbing it into his eyes ~ i’m beyond horribly scarred
still he laughed quite menacingly ~ as his aqueous humour discharged
#aqueous humour# (i’ll let you look it up) hms
By David Kavanagh
I just want to bless
All that's around me with no stress
Even those within me, with love and ease
For peace and prosperity I have made decrees
A life is pretty stale, somewhat sad, so static
Striving seems to mock it, and 'bout it, ecstatic
He's at the drop of a hat set to borne goodness
Where's the power to do, in mere wishes and nothingness?
Lowly, I question that which is yet to be
When will it be that ought to be?
This hope and delay makes me daily weak 'n strong
When will it come his day of joyful song?
Oh, that my coast be enlarged
As the wide spread sky is discharged
Oh, that all around me be safe and blessed
May the good wishes manifest and in excess
Look up into the blue blanket sky feeling granular and fearful and sometimes fear isn't always to be afraid but to be immersed letting the unknown in and yourself out filling your essence with elicitation. This feeling this dream. Oh my, how the clouds disobey gravity and become discharged from the invisible chains that bind almost all things. Oh for the apples soon fall down to the bottom of the invisible reach now is taken as rational yet I hither in a place I can't even call a home. Oh Aether won't you buttress me with feathered wings I chose to leave this place for I was free.
Young man, just try a glass of sangria,
Now, we all can see you are angrier.
Audience is not a ‘a must’ for Town Criers;
Their job can now be discharged by flyers...
One cries too long and one lips get drier,
More pacing about the legs look sorrier.
In some circles you become a pariah,
For being of all things Hollow Wood Carrier.
Yes, you keep that in mind, Prepared Crier:
A town crier’s voice might go higher
But to his critics “A Hopeless Liar”
Or in short, he is the no more needed,
His colleagues in other towns fast weeded.
There is God
He has you
I accept you as you are
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
a declaration
unto you
whom am I to judge you
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
beautiful, perfectly made in Him
There is God
painted you created you mild
you are just His child
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
a declaration
unto you
I love you just as you
No discontent
No fear nor neglect
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
Woman so are
you're yet God's Daughter
Discharged from the rib
Spoken gift co created
takes God the Father kiss of breath of Life
His mouth speaks forth
union tween husband wife man and
a declaration
unto you
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
I love you just as you
So what you done in your past
So what you done not right
Whom am I to judge
I love you just as you are
as is-- a declaration of a LOVE
4/1/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2023
The Untold Story
The flashing headlights intensely illuminated the gloomy faces of the sweetgum tree
The tears fell from the sky like God's Shower , constant and cleansing
The troubled night shrouded the steady strolling figures like an unfulfilled corpse
The Killer parked his hesitant vehicle upon the eroded curbside
The indifferent priest discharged his shallow yet nessacery words upon the silhouetted congregation
"We are gathered today to mourn the death of Linda Whittington..."
The words were unclear due to the remorseful rain
Buffering the consolation like a badly tuned radio
Suddenly, an irrelevant relative broke out :
"She didn't deserve to die ...a moment of silence please"
The Killer smirked to himself
As the theatrical tears of distant relatives who arrived for the free food Conjoined with the Shower droplets
Headed towards the drainage
The Killer picked up a pair of sodden dandelions from the moist ground
And heard, staggeringly clearly , through the rain
"Thank you Magnus"
Magnus placed the now blood-stained
dandelions in the grave
And allowed himself to be encapsulated by the determined Darkness
~Whoever
I am appalled..Sickened.' uncomprehending..!
Why a medical facility 'namley fort sanders'
Small s...' Intentional..) discharged this suffeing
Woman..? How could they.? Are they a care facilty?
Or a scare facility.'? Can any out there advise me?
On the oppresive actions, started by the obviously
Heartless, mean spirited caller. Who requested that
Police attend.' And they did.' four callous minded cops
That mocked, and accused an innocent person with
Sarcasam...In the depths of her despair she pleaded
She called out..Sir..! I am incensed..I am in despair.!
To witness the mental torture..The physical inhibiting
Actions of the four thugs.' Will anybody own friendship
With these pieces of excrenent.!? Slime is above them
Thats how low they live.' I don't want to know their
Names even..' its so toxic their action.' Beyond sick.'
And the pathology.. dept..Are protecting these scum.'
In Knoxville, a place I would think on twice before going.'
With people in charge like this, and others above them'
Yet well below..? Below the lowest level of contempt.'
If you had the devil’s ear
What would you like him to hear
How his evil permeates the world
Causing suffering and death to meld
Would you curse him for who he is
As he laughs and asks why the quiz
For all the pain in the world at large
One for your anger to be discharged.
© Paul Warren Poetry
It was a Sunday in winter
Her health was at risk
Discharged from the center,
Wind blowing quite brisk
She asked him to come
Take her home right away
But he was a bum
He couldn’t be swayed
It wasn’t convenient
So he said with a smirk
De-icing his car
Would be too much work.
She called Uber instead
While he went back to bed
And that’s when she knew
She was dating a jerk.
Eligibility established
Longing for public service
Electioneering
Closing arguments
Turning out the vote
Initiating change
Opening the polls
Never acting tired and worn-out
Drive to the polling place
Awaiting in line to vote
Yes! Civic duty discharged
Written November 8, 2022
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