The magic lantern, like Plato's cave
Should comfort us from here to grave
Illusions tempt but serve to save
Us all from small tedium
The little deaths that make up life
'tween buoyancy and mindless strife
Let balance there be our midwife
And rescue lies aborning
Breathe deeply in, the chance of mirth
At ev'ry chance from here to birth
The only measure of life's worth
Is pleasure gained from honest laughter dawning
For life's a heavy weight to bear
And we should not the mantle wear
Like it's a cloak of camel's hair
Thru the desert of life's making
When oasis waits upon the verge
If we but let our senses merge
Resisting mightily the urge
To wallow there in grieving
When courage is what takes the day
While life's embattled forces play
The lightness out in bitter fray
Shall not the victor be upon death's requiem
When first the dawn doth kiss the waking skies,
Its blush untainted by the world’s design,
An innocence, in newborn hearts, shall rise,
A gentle force, unseen by mortal sign.
No cunning art nor gilded tongue can sway
The quiet strength that purity imparts;
It shields the soul, and turns the night to day,
Restoring hope to long-embattled hearts.
For though harsh tempests rage and shadows fall,
Unspotted virtue stands with tranquil grace;
Her light, unyielding, beckons through them all,
A steadfast star in time’s relentless race.
O innocence, thy power none can bind—
Thy simple truth redeems the fallen mind.
He has a pencil and imagination.
He sits above a marble tabletop
a commanding plateau aloft -
shadow-shades of wintery geese.
A sea swept fable
overlooked by a high stool
and a six-year-old Zeus.
Eggshells grain and creamy caps,
a crystalline surf slaps swirly shores,
blue veins score billowing stone
deep unto watery bone.
Contours of light
shelf, trench and darkling nights
there jabberwocky did roam.
A vast wave engraved realm
where pencil-thin old salts
jig, and swing
upon deck or land.
Grand fleets stand
flogging savage coasts.
Guns hammer truculent hosts
with smokey enfilades
and thick odors of bacon.
Odyssean voyages are lost
in greasy spots,
while an embattled buccaneer
spreads his buttery art across
a voluminous chart.
Then he, the breakfast boy
bends above the roving,
the erstwhile and damned,
sketches a gull or three
with a sailor's hand.
With a god-like paw
the child draws shallows, sandbars
reefs and more
swallow or befog a seascape,
while great ships converge to rescue
a bold seaman
and his bandy-legged dog.
hope
flowing
abundance
unbreakable
embattled walls cease
perish with loves embrace
under unfathomable
beauty blanketed in moon's glow
I fall into blissful surrender
serenity serenades through your voice
heralding a scarred heart's resurrection
trails of bright cosmic dust scattering
streaking the night kissed horizon
wrapping around trembling arms
scents of vintage leather
rain soaked petrichor
two hearts in sync
interlaced
become
one
“Handmaid of Patriarchy”
the garden rezoned
Embattled virility
misogyny cloned
As Delilah revolts
a new Samson on scene
One half of the whole
left to drown in the stream
Each genders new quotient
to minus the plus
A He without Her
— the destruction of us
(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: May, 2025)
embattled
whimsey
unsettled
in tatters
a
dizzing
wordplay
intricately
displayed
of
genre
defying
rheorical
rhymes
I’m retired now. These days I’ve got it made.
I sit on my porch and drink lemonade.
You will never see my nerves get rattled,
Or my disposition become embattled,
No, not even if my conscience tattled.
With these concerns, I am never saddled.
My personal assistant writes the screamin’s
Of my staff of personal inner demons.
Something seems missing
Just what is the Ameripoe Society?
I am glad you didn’t ask, but will explain
It’s a society involving and encouraging current and inspiring Poets with embattled hearts
Strong opinions and convictions
Observations and influences
The qualities of a Poet within
Poet to be in one word’s that oversees
Suggesting to readers and prospective Poet to break the barriers of Alpha
Enrichment of experiences never shared
Word in and out timed right
Speculation balance
Open up to one’s imagination
What can be spoken can be written
Insights through inner thoughts being the Ameripoe Society way
Talent the high mark
Checkpoint Ready, Holding Steady and Aiming for Excellence
Poet’s realities
Social status
Writer’s quo
No although
Eyes seeing ability on one’s inner being
The right to be and explore as a Poet
Words unknown
Uncertainty no doubt
Assurance certain
A Poet being the who and says when
The analysis of can
Ameripoe Society commitment in don’t ever bend to a question
Have the answer that you should only respond.
Undercover I lie
Not wanting to be found
Just wanting to be seen
For the man I could be
No more dark clouds over head
No more thoughtless nights
Lying awake believing I am nothing more
Then a pigment of my imagination
Searching for a reason for all this resentment
Reliving the same outcomes every day
Resillantly searching for some type of calmness
In a world gone mad
By the creation of my own self worth
Out in the camouflage of my own denial
Can't even see my self out of the same Ole situations
To destroy whatever I may have built within
Embattled in trust for what I wish to be
Constantly crossing the same Ole solutions
The way of the world may not be the way of me
But the direction I travel must be sincere and complete
To carry on in the face of disappointment
And remember I am me and this is all I can be.
A gift is given when we are born,
It’s arrays shine over our lives through kaleidoscope eyes.
The responsibility endures to live according to the foundations of our being.
Hold it tight and take its advantages.
Steps hardly ever move forward,
Mostly back.
If you imitate the momentum of others,
it’s a rigid path that does not bend in the distance.
So walk the pace that your feet can transfer to the treads that deliver to your life.
And the tracks to push and prod your progression will be worth all its embattled pathways in the end.
Harold died leaving six behind,
Whom few close families might mind
By being to them honestly kind.
They'd cross them in streets like the blind!
Harold's son by slight buffoon,
As he does self in pubs cocoon,
His daughters! 'Yes' to men too soon,
At nights waiting to kiss the moon...
Six left by Dad to face the battle,
The Eldest thinks they're all cattle,
Second, that they simply prattle
While The Last is the most rattled...
The truth: They are embattled!
In a world where a deep ‘voice’ over’
trailers future disasters
the top brass of a uni-party
(together with its
current four-star chorus),
gather to pump up the fear machines.
The machines are shiny,
and titanium clad.
Budget cuts
have left them empty of any
discernable function
except the line of the day.
The ‘line of the day’, today
is the same as yesterday
it is:
‘Obey and eat your soup.’
A Mickey Mouse blimp
sails over the embattled roof
of the Whitehouse
waving behind it
its glorious unquestioning symbol
of freedom.
Freedom costs less nowadays
for no one goes to the theater.
At home they make-up
their own horror movies;
future shocks confirming
hosts of endlessly bad scenarios.
The silent and compliant
pace back and forth
in their virtual lock-ups
where every cranny and nook
has its own tiny camera
that records every tick
or shudder of dissent.
Beauty changes
the embattled soul
A transmutation
ennobled whole
In darkest throes
to spread its light
Forever bathed
—in pure delight
(Dreamsleep: February, 2023)
Roses are red
Trepidations were you
Your affirmations from my kisses
Wouldn’t be enough
To get through to you
I would compile the wishes in our visions,
Candlelight laughter caressed the dishonor in your smile
And I would slow dance with your embattled tears,
Empathic gestures where you are the only sunshine
Who matters
Violets are blue
Like the skies which I sought for us to fly
But you wanted to hold me from a distance
With welcomed whispers on text
Now, I disconnect this line to your recycled insecurities.
While I water the flowers of my present,
To grow a new tomorrow
Hoping the dirt in your lyrics will one day embrace the rain.
@Tacito
LET’S GET IT ON-
Embattled spaces
Confound places
Let’s get it on
Incorporate prayers
Unsound harmonies
Strained melodies
Let’s keep it real
Rebuke the storm away from
Thee quiet space
And let us be about our Father’s business
Let us raise our voice
Live in our choice
Let us rejoice
Let us be strong
Let’s git, let’s get it on
Rise up armor up
Rise to the call
Pray for one and all
Embrace and close we’re
Soldiers a part of the Army of the Lord
Let’s rise up in battle
With sword in Hand
Let’s receive the challenge
We rebuke sin and shame
And bondage
No sickness here, Loose here
Devil you got to go
Let us stay on course
Let us be strong be ready
When He calls on us
We stand united
The foundation of God be ready for battle
Keeping watch all eyes on Him
God says we got this
Devil your already defeated
Let’s Get it On
12/9/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2022©
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