As interlude of turmoil swerves
on my mind
leading me to reach for waning hours ,
there is a lull of evening's heave
grating within the ledge of isolation,
until gazing long enough
into darkness, I blink to recall
the revelries trapped in dried blossoms
of ardor now enmeshed ,entangled:
These haunting screams jut out
from a frame of hardened boughs
buried deep among frigid weeds-- and I wail,
stripping night's foliage of farewell
with knots of abandonment ...
and autumn loses its elegance,
those misted tears invading the glint
behind our past trysts --
that I learn how desolate this stained time
retreats when he fades away
like a ghastly ghost,
when the soul-stars dream and die...
knowing in fall's requiem,
I am no longer there.
Light evanesced upon his leaving
with the final choke of dusk--
the fragrance of orchids wisping softly
and I shiver...vapid, empty
clouds swallowing the kiln of lamppost-
and into the restless clang
from winds booming,
the dirge of hummingbirds stutters
which makes noises louder
than my groans-- the ceiling of sky
breaking like splinters of glass-
and among incandescent stars,
our distant, intermittent rendezvous
withers as my peppered tears grate
the bitter tincture of night's burial
from all his trespasses,
a body language
coiled in stale cocoon...his words
barbed as jailed verses ...
unuttered ,unsaid.
Yes, I am. But, my eyes are special.
See, my eyes see through you, walls, time and space.
That’s the way they are: brown, but powerful.
And if I see you, you can’t escape!!
-------
vol 6, Multiples
The tree
The flowers in the valley
Purple like fruit punch
I see Sandra by the pine tree
She’s crouched down talking to a little girl
The clouds above look like an elephant version of ABBA
Oh wait that little girl might be me
But a memory
Because I am not under the tree yet
I am still a leaf
The unemployed prophet
By: Dustin Branum
Please don't take his name in vain
for it is I the one to blame
It is I that disgraced his holy name
I and I alone shall bear the pain
of his wrath and the devils flame
This knowledge is the curse that possesses me
Unable to fulfill my Destiny
I've lost my heart, my soul, my reason to be
Cause by hate, fear and uncertainty
And for the ones that loved me it isn't fair
How can they trust when sanity isn't there
My mind and soul in disrepair
And I think it's my fault that no one cares
Revenge is a suggestion but do I dare
The anger and hatred I shouldn't share
Violently shaking my fists in the air
Crying to God but he isn't there
My demons are starting to laugh at me
I curse his name in blasphemy
I cannot fulfill what you ask of me
Maybe it never was my Destiny
Maybe you should find somebody else to do your dirty work
Tick tick tock ….. watch that eerie clock,
with buddha shaped tuscan stain shroud,
intruding the silver-blue eyed fog waker,
me, the gem treasure hunter hovering,
oe’r sunshine focussed raspberry trellis,
that sturdy bamboo shoot prop “ripener,”
I sabre rattle squishy mango downpours,
in my nirvana of forest green subconscious,
now jolted by the red rose tint second hand,
into mortal transit’s dwindling time-lapse
A poem by me
You can take the breathe from my body. You can have my soul ripped open wide. You can have my mind, the wanderer it is. You can have this hand to hold. You can hold the very essence of my being in the palm of your hand. Do with me what you wish. I offer myself to you as nothing more or less than who I am. Down to my very core I am yours. Feel my heart beat in this box with your name upon its lid. Forever I will be a part of you, and you always a part of me. I lay here bare, naked. With wrists torn open bleeding for you. You are my soul, my heart outside my body. I give you all I am and ever will be without hesitation. You have won me. A war long fought. You turned a cold damaged soul into a bleeding heart. I give you all I am. Scars and all.
.
that again
my meander
must
through thoze
chilly mornz
autumn
fantisize'n
and 'bout winter'z
cold plodz
cloak'd
dream'n uv thuh vernal'z bloom
glitter
mime
.
'tiz
hern frock
it's diaphanous
white
hern camber'z
sequester'd searing
silhouette
mine think's eyne
I tried to preserve the wilting flower,
Tried to protect it from its pain.
I did my best but failed at love,
And everything with my heart is to blame.
Late: The square?holds its panting between
?the last bus and the first argument.
Nowhere / ‘online’ - @someone is ‘winning’..?
A face, a flag, emptiness trending; always.
We desired a just world -?rights, dignity, ‘progress’; doors?that open to merit.
Enlightenment still flashes warning
from the distant rocks - through darkling fog.?
The doors? Gone.
?it will not be alright.?
it is cold.
?the square waits: quiet, tense.?
you are here,?
so am I.
I know not your will our pain suffer
tear soaked ground
Fill with empty coffins of decaying past,
no one's home; soul gone away
Vulgaris society like yesterday's dreams
Hatred killing blood shed streets run
Love no more, independence of oneself
Is it not ourselves we save our own
Bones wasting away six deep in
Is it not of diversity we pull strength
Everything we kill we wipe DNA to life
What is purpose if we abandon reason
Once a nation founded on moral respect
Bitten by snake's venom piercing blood warm veins
Does a one not hate of their own accord,
despising everything good
Are we better ancestors, same battle since dawn
Good vs evil, war only you make difference outcome
Blood warm, resurrection Jesus; infinite mind to peace
A man made out of dust/ dirt and clay;
Comes not now through the womb;
His awaited anointed place space;
His entrance through the womb;
From grace, to faith, to space place the womb into a room;
First eternity with the Father, Elohim;
Now spirit birth into a flesh a vessel of mankind;
Concurring energies graced, to faith, in space into womb-man;
God man and womb-man jointly co create;
Humans
9/2/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
It was nearly without sound,
Save a pine-brushed mountain breeze
When I rose beneath fog's blanket
And stepped lightly through the trees.
In reverence of the aura there
Subdued in temperance;
Without a word, just in tears
I offered holy reverence.
Before me in this quiet place
A lake, in still perfection,
Lay without the slightest wave;
Heaven's mirror gave reflection.
As I gazed into the glassy lake
My soul and spirit swooned
With God's creation holding me
He healed my hidden wounds.
No greater ambiance nor scene
Has since renewed my core.
I found the Prince of Peace that morn
On a pristine mountain shore.
Next, the sun began to rise
And the Quakies clapped their hands
Creation birthed a brand-new day
And I began to understand:
God is a God of perfect peace
Who in countless ways can bless
Whether heaven sent or by a stream
He gives the seeker rest.
If your world has left you wounded,
"Come unto Me, sons and daughters"
God offers early morning grace
To bless beside still waters.
Psalms 23: 2 (KJV) “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;
He leadeth me beside still waters.”
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