I was born in the pause between two coordinates
drawn by cartographers with sterilized hands.
My soul was indexed in miles and postal codes
Filed under miscellaneous anomaly at checkpoints.
I crossed borders that did not exist,
except in the mouths of men with rifles.
My breath was weighed against paperwork,
my shadow flagged by predictive suspicion.
I was processed in buildings with no windows,
where hope was a form to be filled in triplicate.
My story was annexed, taped to a strangers' bias,
then shelved into the limbo of “pending.”
I failed the empathy test of the world
where spectacle outperforms survival.
My life was too procedural for pity,
and my death was redacted for efficiency.
Time Period~~1830-1850
As rain falls hard and soaks the ground
and thunder roars its mighty sound,
so tears of the displaced may fall,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
The Deep South tribes of long ago
were forced to forge a trail of woe,
of death and want, with goods so small,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
We Cherokees were brought to tears
when forced from land we'd held for years,
no longer standing strong and tall,
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
The rugged journey thousands made
to Westward land should never fade
from memory. All must recall
our cries bespeaking dearth and pall.
on behalf of our tribe, the Cherokees, and the many other tribes
who were displaced
I'm scared to close my eyes tonight
I ask my mom to hold me tight
To tell me it will be alright,
and rock me close till morning light
I hear my auntie start to cry,
and no one wants to tell me why
my uncle's gone without goodbye
I wonder what it's like to die
I miss my home, and my best friend
She said this war was going to end
that other countries would defend
Perhaps she's playing just pretend
My mom said now she's on a plane
I'm glad she's not here in this rain,
or wounded and in awful pain
Iike those of us who must remain
I try to block the noise to sleep,
while thinking our lives must be cheap
I pray to God our souls to keep
To calm the fear that's running deep
I'm splashing in a little stream,
but why do I hear mother scream?
The blasts are real and not a dream!
Oh, God! This is the end it seems.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
October 5, 2024
Beirut, Lebanon
If I should get punctured, laying leaking Crimson Tide,
call me Deacon Blues as I slowly start to die.
If they miss me, take it easy.
All is as it should be.
It's best to cut losses, cut ties, change your name, skip town, and grow a beard.. Like To-day, act now before patience sells out in turn I act out of character, and when I leave this is all that you'll talk about.
Our natural satellite departs slow.
Binds of the parasitic plant; first love ties.
The pulse on your neck is chattering, It's slurring its words.
Downtrodden, ragged, in rags soaking drenched and sitting comfortable in combustible liquid stenches.
Oblivious even in the question, oddly aggressively asking,
a straggly demand, expectant to be handed the light to smoke himself a real 'Death Sentence' cigarette.
The late moon is stunning, floating, acting like you're here and really you're staying, we all know that you're leaving.
What are we even thinking?
The only finger on the pulse plays to the beat of a night that reminds me of older days.
Guarded adversaries; imagine that.
The Heart Elapse.
Collapse.
Old and Grey or Rob the cradle to the grave.
It is time for me to change my pace:
To shake off plays in life's race
Lay my head against future's chest
Allow its arms to do their best.
To breathe in its comforting musk,
To sink into its lights of busking
To let people and things fall away
Not to struggle for them to sway.
Echoing thoughts that are left behind
These thoughts that torment my mind
To accept the solitude and all its graces
Just lead me home into my places.
Held high I hold;
Displace visions told;
From my heart to my soul;
I'm not letting the story go;
My highest aim is my goal;
Let go letting gone see;
Are those compelling me;
To belong where I need not call;
My vision is blurred, I'm missed understood;
As my life on hold yet I fall;
WHAAAT!!!!!!!
7/13/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2023©
company
plows up duck pond
homeless
Hopelessness, like krait betwixt stones, creep into heart,
Confusion, like troubled stream, from heart, stands apart;
I am lonely and lost; float on flooding river,
Lifeless! Though reach the banks, I'll live like a sliver...!
I try to avoid despair, yet, like leech it clings,
Looks externally simple; it has hooking strings;
With sufferings and pains it makes my mind brim-fill,
When I find emptiness and void, it remains still...!
How long will my hopelessness last? Will there be end?
To those joys that shake it, will this easily bend?
Is hope, like sun in fog veiled? Or like lost stars gone?
Will, hence, in my life, no costumes of virtues don...?
Am I able to relax in my times of pain?
Seeking divine blessings, do I my soundness gain?
Do I wait and watch for all gloomy times to pass?
Does my outlook end with the tunnel of impasse...?
Step-by-step, little-by-little I try to reach,
Zenith of freedom and my troubles to impeach...
Roughness in me, toward me, like chaffs in winds, blown,
I tread the paths of life Holy Scriptures have shown...!
11 August 2022
In the tone
At home
Covered in Grace
In the space
This place
Common race
I run from my sins
Don't need a phone
While I'm alone
I just call my Lord
This place
His place
Future tense my space
Saved by His grace
I insist
I now resist
Common race
My sins now displaced
Sinner saved by grace
Just tryin to face
My Lord My God face in peace
5/11/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2021
Yes I'm different than you
The tragically fashion notion ethnic
Hostilities
There are some races that negates and dislike other races
Hello apparent reason other than being different
Yes I'm different than you
Sense of disgrace nobly misplaced
Discriminatory hates
Sentiments lament animosities
Hostility
Yes I'm different than you
Individual souls coming undone
Noble ancients greatest prophets
Spiritually institutions Gothic
Hostilities
Yes I'm different than you
I am of a different hue
You see me in a different view
Instilled the dislikes generational
Hostility
This place discrimination
Displaced discrimination
3/31/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©2021
Honor truth
Settles the heart
Displaced young
They do start
Basket ballers hoops
Drops the love parts
aMERICA cuts the net
Ballers shoots the ball
Broken leg blurry eyes
Once again shoots a shoot
Drops the ball in game and love
Loses the game moves on
10/9/19
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
While I witness my faults;
I come before you lost;
A curtain drawn;
Just before dawn;
open mine eyes onto the sunrise;
No longer lost;
Forgiven sins;
I'm rejoicing in mercies grace..
Forgiveness~
6/4/19
Whats at your center?
Where is your peace?
Is it puppies or the season, maybe color.
For me, you see, it must be the sky, the trees, the way they meet.
The way they vary but always stay the same.
Blue by day, yellow then night.
Watch the fragments of time bring about true change.
Knowing when to, how long it might take.
Prepared for this long observation.
When instinct takes over and you no longer need to think about it.
There's a cool breeze in the air leading to transformation.
We all do. Everyone. Goes through daily modification that effects perception.
Will it make you into something different, or is there consistency to your variations?
The liar puts on their mask to conceal
Truth that has been kept hidden
From a desperate world.
10-10-16
Tossed high up in air
Cradled in valiant fort
Oust Archimedes
Vastness being inside the dot
White dreams ignobly sold
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