Such is a soul that is divine
Great inspiration the spiritual immaterial part
Immortal soul's journey through unversed starts
Such is a soul that is divine/ I AM A SOUL I AM DIVINE
~
Regarded believed death is just
One step in a sensational holy empyrean
Such is a soul that is divine
Holiness breathe aloud/ I AM A SOUL I AM DIVINE
~
My vessel’s filled with sublime ecclesiastic reverence
Feeling emotion passion enthusiasm, celestial seraphic
Such is a soul so divine confessing's/ I AM A SOUL I AM DIVINE
~
Angelic fervor ardor vivacity
Spiritual heavenly celestial deiform capacity
Such is a soul that is divine
~
Grandeur pageantry at naught,
this universe hasn’t seen the last of me
I am truest self-contained energy…
Such is mine soul that is divine/ I AM A SOUL I AM DIVINE
For “A Soul is Divine “Poetry Contest
Free verse poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Mohan Chutani
6/26/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2023
Placed 6th place in contest
Haven't got time to repay your debts
Haven't got time to remit and accept
And definitely don't have time to kill
Don't have time to wander or wonder
Don't have time to fear
Haven't got time to fumble it's not a game
These there's no ball here
Almost got time to say I'm sorry
Almost got time to rejoice with you in your pain
Haven't got time to bother you don't bring time to the game
Ain't got time to worry
Barely got time to leave And get time for no song to fruit
But tomorrow there's a pit in the rain
Time belongs to no one and no one belongs to time
How often are we depleted
And are we the changes in the seasons that we define we bring
Old time be a reason are we the reason for the change
For when we cry and we pour out all are we
dispensing sorrows repented rain
8/7/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr 2022
Son of man speaks to me
ecclesiasticus
speak to the people my words
the Commandments of life
Don't you let them think twice
Who is the wise man
ecclesiastic
Who is the wise man
Who is the man with the Holy ring
Who was the one who helped raise and sing
Who was the wise man counselor my model
Oh, I await your every word who am I to just be heard Saviour King my God Lord of lords
Who is the man with the Holy ring
Who is the one we all praise for and sing songs our offerings
Who is the wise man
ecclesiastic
Who is the wise man
ecclesiastic who is the wise man
6/24/07
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr
Ecclesiastes 8:1-9
Buttercup as an anemone, I see my bonbon
In the midst of a wharve spin,
Graciously thin languette,
Ecclesiastic, a true coquette,
Offered for a handful of sequin
On the 1000-thread linen, rests Evangeline!
Shine the uptown shrine with whispering vocal cords
As the frock is overcome with a slow descend,
Never mind the sallow ambience of
An ageing Jesuit mission, or thereof,
Words of prohibition annulled by disparlure:
Madame! – as they say, I don’t kiss-poor.
My appearance, utterance of faith,
Expected and grandiloquent,
Clasped the mortification with inflamed blood,
Yet budding desire, instantly prescribed,
Not to let it out of my sight.
But to greybeard wonderful torrents of luxury,
About to 5G live-stream this imperious rite
Will put a stop to any cavil,
A cue in hand to excite ’n’ appease the inner devil,
I abide the coming, Evangeline!
Cordial satisfaction, marvellous plantation of joy,
Memento mori, I must this very moment, I must die.
Pull myself from hell
Drag myself from heaven
The ecclesiastic devil may care
So high god cant see me
So hidden he doesn't know me
So far his powers cant reach
The single cell organism
has split his genes
Put the guns against my head
Pull the trigger
and before
Im dead and start to fall
Hear my mantra
you all
lifting lyrics like lost legends
positioning prose perfectly picked
No stupid people only intelligent people that know less
Like fire burny
The abnormal abnormality with rage in his chest
Flaying about not a care ever made
Call me back later world
When everyone's dead
The long line of your followers that you detest,
Walking single file with vehement interest,
In their wake blood overflowed into Tigris,
The dead integrated Euphrates causing infest,
This man made Styx was never left to rest,
Lay in your sepulcher with a lustrous diamond crest,
Lock horns for the ecclesiastic never confess,
Never giving thought to children bludgeon to death,
Beloved mothers crying holding dead to their breast, Fathers saying last love at the end of their final breath,
You made us live in hell to make certain you look best.
(2017)
Old ecclesiastic sight charms.
Seen past time decay did great harms.
Restoration eased then priests' qualms.
Beautified now.
Pious churchmen seen chant sweet psalms.
They pass, we bow.
Wise men: by jimmy muniks
My place reside in the psalms
Without to slug I still not a lesser person
However it is greatly unwise to face raved armies
My sling clings to my every mood
Rejoices in my interactive power
To win I remain ecclesiastic
Without the intervention of my Samuel
This writing might in time
However I seek to be at peace with coexistence
And a place for others in my every mood
Especially to love specifically
This way I am not greater than Adam
For I am captured at my lest rib in flesh and spirit
As that songster perfecting to tune there
In palaces where life is despised
Nevertheless my song comes out well
I pay tribute to the psalmist
The ecclesiastic than I am
These years so many
I only know there was a house of David
And the Calvary of crucifixion
Nevertheless
I have acquainted my best with the cymbals
Banding tribute to this psalmist
I seek through before my time
Far away it is epic but truly my maker
I catch in my sight truly a place to seek
These years so many
I only here the battle of Philistines and lesser men
Beside Every Iridescent Node Grows
Beauty, Eyeing, Instigating, Nodding Gracefully.
Bounty Energizes Inundating Nascent Growth.
Brilliant Emerald Ignites Newborn Grains.
Bathers Each In Nuance Gather.
Beyond Eternity, Infinite Night Gropes.
Beside Emerging Isotopes Nonchalantly Grasping
Bottle-necked Entities In Nature’s Great
Beneficence Engages Ideology's Non-sequitur
Givers.
Bare endings. Idols Neglected Gape.
Basking Ecclesiastic Idiosyncrasies Nascent Glow.
Because Each Idol Names Great
Beauty. Effigies, Itinerant Namesakes, Grin.
Beside Each, I Narcissus' Grow.
being being being being being being being
First Published in Femmewise Cat
Vermilion tears down an angel's cheek,
Sorry to say, did not dry this very week;
Rather, turning to rust as devil deals
Lust, a thrust, parlay, iniquity steals.
Indulge in saturnine preludes to this
The dark interludes in a crimson kiss
Bleed hell and cry blood for a twist
They sneak and walk among deepening bliss.
They look to kill Christ again, auguring a
Warning, heed heaven's call to halt decay
Show reverence for the ecclesiastic
Kiss the clay, and the mold is fantastic.
Trust that guide, drawing lightning in the back
Calling forward to the front of the pack;
Love all your brothers, for then you can trust
They too cry them, colored in muddy rust.
Pressing my peripatetic poetic spirit
I roamed the abode of technology
Where I spilled my poetic condolences, with company of tears,
To my friends in Japan
Whose brothers are forcefully accommodated,
In the large bellies of callous Tsunami and dreaded earthquakes.
How many oceans of sorry shall consume
The traumatic castle of agony erected in their souls?
Hugging my peripatetic poetic spirit,
I roamed the dried sands of Libya,
Where men are roasted by rage of military missiles
For demanding the dethrone of a pitiless demi-god
How many more heads shall be sacrificed for the crown of justice?
Handshaking my peripatetic poetic thoughts
I roamed through the petroleum abode of Middle East
I found Iraq ravaging by ecclesiastic of death
Where men are proud to die for a cause yet unknown
Poised by teaching of abstract fable theories,
They volunteer to be burnt with innocent multitude.
When will scions vampires taste the last drop of blood in Iraq?
Only the ONE behind the cloud knows!
For the contest:I roam
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